#it was a very last minute decision to attend the con anyway

[flingza-roller]

pissing myself laughing at how pathetic i look in this video @speedfroggyrin took of me at avcon a couple weeks back

[remimibanana]

OZ Comic Con Adelaide 2024 Report!

I had the wonderful opportunity of attending OZ Comic Con in Adelaide for the whole weekend with my good friend Pie (@piedivide!)!

It was a very fun weekend filled with so many things across both days that I have to write down before I forget!

I cosplayed Herta and Pie cosplayed Welt Yang, both from Honkai: Star Rail! These are our first cosplays for the year and we put in a lot of work into our wig styling, makeup and more!

All under the cut!

Day 1: Saturday

I woke up at 7am, ready to start preparing for the convention! I wanted to get there by 11am!

Admittedly, I struggled a lot more than I should have while doing so, which caused me to come around 12pm instead...

I was really busy throughout the whole week prior to the con trying to finish my assignments since it’s the end of the semester and uh…I didn’t have a chance to practice putting on the cosplay or my makeup before Day 1.

Not good, I know.

To make matters worse, a safety pin holding up the chain decided to break randomly behind the lock. I had to fix that somehow while trying to get everything to look right…

I managed at the end!

My mum helped me out with my makeup and putting on things! I couldn't have done it all without her.

Herta’s shoes were not comfortable at all to walk in since they have heels, but I decided to wear them until I arrived at the convention since it was a part of the cosplay! I wanted to show off the whole look to all!

(I paid a lot of money for them as well aha)

I slightly regretted that decision, since I wore the sneakers I brought with me for the whole entire con and the fact that my feet were hurting after walking for less than ten minutes. I think shoes are great for photos but some aren't practical to wear around all day....

Anyway!

I got to the station first and waited around for Pie to arrive once I gave them the signal...after I fixed my hat that fell off randomly that may or may not have taken 15 minutes….

Don’t ask. I’m sorry ;;

We decided that I would wait for him to come to the station since last time, they arrived at the same time as me. We also decided to wait until the con to see each other’s cosplays for the first time!

I remember seeing from afar the outline of Welt Yang on top of the escalators coming down towards me and immediately, I was filled with a sense of excitement! They kept coming closer and closer to me and I kept smiling like an absolute idiot.

Pie’s cosplay was so good, as I proceeded to say multiple times to his face! I especially loved the wig, they put a lot of effort into making it look amazing!

He totally blew my mind, in a good way! They were slaying Welt Yang and I hope he knows that!

To my surprise, Pie had not one but TWO things for me which made me very happy! I didn’t expect anything from them!

A Dan Heng headband and a Herta pin?! Thank you once again, Pie!!!

We headed to the convention via a train that takes us to the Adelaide Showgrounds directly! We didn’t see any cosplayers on the train, but we did see some as soon as we arrived!

In fact, a car stopped in the middle of driving as we were walking to the entrance and the people inside complimented our cosplays! It was the first time that sort of situation ever happened to us!

It felt so cool.

There were these Goddess Madoka and Demon Homura cosplayers that made me freak out so much upon seeing them in the distance since I'm a huge fan of PMMM.

Pie and I originally bought only Saturday passes since we initially were going to only attend Day 1 and then use Sunday as the day we took pictures and videos together. This changed when we saw that there was a Star Rail cosplay meetup at 11am on Day 2.

Of course, it was on the Sunday that we weren’t going to at an early time…I informed Pie of this as soon as I mentioned that the schedule was out for the convention.

If we knew beforehand, we would have bought a weekend pass in the first place. Unfortunately, the schedule came out with about a week until the con.

We were also worried we wouldn’t be able to buy tickets at the early bird prices if we waited. Perhaps, buying early isn’t a good idea at times...

After some quick deliberation on our parts, we decided to upgrade to Weekend passes! We couldn’t miss this chance to meet other cosplayers who also like HSR! We read online that we could do so at the front desk upon arriving at the convention on the FAQ.

That was our plan upon getting there, but it didn’t go as smoothly as we thought. The Help Desk was where we were directed to when we asked about upgrading them, but none of the people at the desk were able to help us.

We had to wait until another person came from their lunch break who knew how to do it. We wandered around for a little bit, coming back a few times to see the same people still at the desk. The person we needed came eventually and helped us both out without any trouble!

With our Weekend passes and the bands on us nice and secure, we could finally start our Day 1…once I went to the bathroom.

I had to take off my large black coat my mum kindly gave me and pack things away. I wanted a mirror so I could see how my wig was fairing and remove those Herta shoes.

It was a lovely thought from my mum, but I shouldn’t have brought it with me. It was so thick that it took all the space in my Fuwamoco tote bag I had with me despite how warm it was.

I also regretted bringing my backpack, especially with Herta’s long hair. It was such a hassle pulling it off and putting it on….I didn't even start the day and I already had so many regrets slowly piling up behind me.

We could NOW start our day!

We walked around mostly for Day 1, seeing what the convention had and admiring cosplays!

There were a lot of people everywhere!

There were scribble walls you could draw on freely and people truly did draw some amazing things….Dio Brando face Peppa wasn’t what I expected at all.

People complemented our cosplays and asked for photos! It made me so happy, it meant we were doing something right with them! We were going to buy prints for each other and take professional photos, but we decided to leave that for Day 2.

I saw this Void Drifter Kiana Kaslana figure and immediately freaked out since it was the first Honkai Impact 3rd related thing I ever saw!

It cost like $300 bucks, which I so would have bought if I didn't have to buy my next cosplay. The first photos I took of it were so shaky because I was too excited lol

I just was happy to see anything HI3.

Time to showcase all the amazing cosplayers I got photos with for Day 1! Thank you for taking a photo with me!

Wriothesley (@cypher_cosplay on Instagram) and Neuvillette (@edenzcosplay on Instagram)!!!!

Me looking like some kind of NPC because I didn’t know what pose to do 🧍‍♂️

Both of their cosplays look amazing! I was the first to notice Neuvillette, and then Pie noticed Wriothesley! Pie sort of walked straight up to them wanting a photo and I just followed along like a lost puppy haha

They were both very kind!

Kafka (@s.jn_jack on Instagram)!!!

It was them who came up to us first, saying how he liked our cosplay! Pie and I saw their cosplay while walking around and I remember being really happy seeing a Kafka cosplayer!

This was his first cosplay as they told us and they did amazing for their first time!!

Sparkle (@_.emmet._t on Instagram)!!!

I remember seeing her while walking and being happy that there was a Sparkle cosplayer here! There were many HSR cosplayers on Day 1 including us, much to my surprise!

Such a pretty cosplay, I absolutely love it! I feel like they captured the personality and idea of Sparkle so well!

Madoka and Homura (@sonickyx on Instagram)!!!!

These are the ones I saw when I got to the convention!

I wanted to take a photo with them but I was such a sissy that it took me forever to do so. I’ve never been good at asking for any photos since I'm a little shy, but I wanted to try!

Every time I attempted to, they seemed busy and I’d hate to interrupt anyone if they're doing something. It took way longer than it should have, but I did it at the end!

Their cosplays are so pretty!

...

If you can tell throughout these pictures…my wig was slowly falling off throughout the day. I didn’t even notice until I realised when we took some of the photos together with the cosplayers and I uh...couldn't really do anything about it then.

I was stupid and didn’t properly secure the wig cap or my wig, even though I was going to with bobby pins in the first place. Don’t be like me.

I thought it was going to stay in place ;;

It was one of the reasons why we left certain things like the photography to Day 2, although I felt bad because Pie seemed to really want to take photos, despite them reassuring me that it was okay.

Another was that I was a little unsatisfied with my makeup because I was too afraid of using my eyeliner I bought. I’ve never used it before that point and didn’t want to poke my eyes out before the convention. I wanted to take nice professional photos I could be proud of, you know?

Don't worry, I learnt my lesson for Day 2. Day 1 was like a trial day for me, which I wished wasn't the case but you live and learn! I was still happy with my cosplay overall!

After some more walking around, we felt like we did everything we could do and see for Day 1! We left at around 3:30pm and headed back to the city since we planned to do Karaoke at 6pm for two hours!

There was this little place I mentioned to Pie that I saw on Friday where they sold Katsudon that we could go to for food if they were open! It was in the station, in the underground pass that I always have walked through since I was a kid.

Pie and I went to check it out, but it was closed…Google said it would open at 5pm, so we wandered around Rundle Mall to pass the time in our wonderful cosplays. Walking around in cosplay while not at a convention is a scary experience.

People always stare at you no matter what and are probably silently judging you from afar. It wasn’t as daunting as I thought it would be though, but that’s because I had the Welt Yang by my side. It's always better when you have a friend!

On the way to Rundle Mall, we got stopped by these two people who complemented our cosplays! It was sort of out of the blue, but it was very welcomed! Pie was the one who mostly talked to the both of them, I was sort of just there smiling and nodding.

We came back at 5pm….only to realise that Google is a liar and the restaurant is only open late on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We missed one of the signs literally in front of us that told us this fact….

At this point, everything was pretty much closed or about to close as well since it was the weekend. Why didn't they update Google with this vital piece of information?!

I blame Google for this mishap.

We headed back to Rundle Mall in defeat, and decided upon a place that sold sushi and various other foods! It was one of the places that were still open. I got Takoyaki, a Karrage Chicken Skewer and a Prawn Katsu Skewer! It was pretty good, although I wish there was more of it.

Pie got the same, but instead of the prawn he got a salt and pepper skewer. The person who served us was very kind and complemented our cosplays in fact!

So many complements, and it was only Day 1!

Once we ate, we had to wait around until the Karaoke place was open in the cold for a while. I was freezing since I didn’t put on my coat and Herta's outfit isn't that warm. I know I should have, but it would have been such a pain taking it out of the tote bag.

The Karaoke place opened earlier than expected actually once we started heading down there, so we went right in! We sang many songs, and it was loads of fun!

I had a whole list of songs that I prepared for this day, but I still struggled to choose what to sing....

If you ever sing karaoke with me, it will always take me forever to actually choose something as a warning. I feel like I don't know too many songs fully that well, so I always mess up aha

I think my favourite song I sang was Cyberangel! I love Bronya a lot and the song is an absolute banger!

I took off my wig and my wig cap in the middle of it all because it was about to fall off completely and I couldn’t handle it anymore. Once 8pm hit, that was it!

The whole time, I was holding a wig in my hands as I headed back home on the train. I took everything immediately off without even batting an eye as soon as I came home, brushing out my wig that became super messy.

I didn’t go to sleep until after midnight.

Day 2: Sunday

I woke up at 5:30am because of the meetup….the things we do for cosplay.

This time around, I knew what I was doing and was able to be ready by 9am!

Unlike Day 1, I did my makeup all by myself!

I managed to put on the eyeliner without getting any into my eye somehow and look decent! For someone who’s never done it before…it’s kind of incredible.

The whole time I was doing it, I called myself a tensai (genius) for being able to do this lmao

My mum told me how she managed to get eyeliner in her eye when she first started but it really wasn’t that hard…I think she tried to scare me off from doing this my whole life. Actually….my right eye is thicker than my left eye, but you can’t tell with my glasses for the most part.

For my wig, I pinned the absolute crap out of the wig cap and the wig itself. It may have been a bit overkill using every single bobby pin I had, but it’s better to be safe than sorry! It worked pretty well, if I do say so myself. It didn’t move at all, not once during the entire day even while I was outside.

Instead of packing my backpack like Day 1, I just packed everything into my tote bag! It was much easier to manage! I also wore a thinner jacket and put on my sneakers first! This whole setup worked way better for me.

This time around, Pie came to the station right away since we had to take a train that was about 10 minutes after when I would arrive in order to get to the convention by the time the meetup started. For the whole time, I was convinced that the train was coming at 10:27am and I wasn’t going to make it, but I was looking at the wrong schedule….

And then we were at the wrong platform too once I got there…

Point is, we found where we were meant to go and got onto the train when it came!

The train had some cosplayers this time around, so we felt right at home! It seemed like Sunday was the more popular day for the convention, which makes sense with more people being potentially free on this day.

Getting into the convention was easy since we had our weekend passes, one simple flash of our bands and we could waltz right in without any trouble!

We headed straight for the meetup area! It was at the very back of the convention area, near the bathrooms and food area filled with loads of tables and chairs.

To our surprise and confusion, there was no one really there for what was meant to be the HSR meetup. It was oddly empty, spare for a few random cosplayers. I saw a Silver Wolf cosplayer nearby, but that was the only other HSR cosplayer around. We definitely didn’t go to the wrong place since there was a whole sign there with the schedule…

We took a seat at a table, deciding to wait for more people to show up hopefully. I took off my jacket and Pie kindly put it in their tote bag since I had no space in mine…thank you again, Pie!

The Silver Wolf cosplayer ran straight up to us and asked for a photo right after we finished with all that!

I was so surprised, I didn’t expect for them to come to us so quickly wanting a photo!

They were so nice and kind! Their wig was amazing, it looked so accurate from the back!

And then an Aventurine cosplayer (@myki.cosplay on Instagram) came up to us as well, and we all took photos together! He looked amazing as well!

Me again with my NPC pose 🧍‍♂️

One of the staff members informed us that there was no meetup in fact, there were some others here earlier but they left for some reason. It was a bit disappointing to hear.

They then asked if they could take a photo of all of us for the convention, and we obliged of course! I think I stood like an NPC again because I had no pose ideas…I have no clue how it came out.

I suppose we shall find out!

Pie and I waited for a bit longer after that, to see if anyone else would appear. It sucked because we were excited for the meetup and the idea of meeting new people!

Alas…there was no more HSR cosplayers.

People kept coming and going, but we knew that it was all done. It felt like we got up early and came all this way for nothing. It was the only reason we came on Day 2…but we didn’t let that dampen anything!

After a while, we decided to continue our journey around the convention. Our main agenda was getting some food since we both skipped breakfast in favor of getting ready.

We passed by the Just Dance area, and I literally stopped in place at the sight in front of me. It took me less than a second to see them.

THERE WAS BRONYA AND SEELE COSPLAYERS RIGHT THERE. HONKAI IMPACT 3RD COSPLAYERS AT MY CONVENTION HUH??????????

ESPECIALLY TWO OF MY FAVOURITE OUTFITS FOR THEM????????

BRONSEELE?????

I didn’t expect to see any HI3 cosplayers since it isn’t as popular as Genshin or HSR unfortunately, so I freaked the heck out!

Pie freaked out too, more so for the Johnny and Gyro cosplayers from JoJo Part 7! They looked very cool, even though I only recognize them vaguely since I’ve seen them before online. They were waiting in line to do Just Dance, while the two of us just stared in awe while trying to process these sheer facts.

We decided to wait for them to finish, and then ask for a photo!

I know I’m not good at asking for them, but there was no way I could miss this chance. It was very fun watching Seele dance! Bronya was recording it all!

Seele (@vinfartsanji on Instagram) and Bronya (@s7kun4 on Instagram)!!!!

Johnny and Gyro (@sonickyx on Instagram) were the same cosplayers who did Madoka and Homura on Day 1!!!!

Pie was the one who asked for a photo of them all together first, then I asked for a picture with Bronya and Seele while Pie asked for Johnny and Gyro! I never felt so confident in my life, although I did stutter a bit.

I mentioned how I loved their Bronya and Seele cosplays and they were happy that I was a HI3 fan and that we needed more HI3 recognition and cosplays at conventions!

I absolutely agree with them! I’m going to cosplay HI3 at some point in the near future! If you can’t tell, I’m a bit of a HI3 fanatic who likes the game a little too much.

They were all very lovely and kind! I’m so glad they were here, and that we were able to see them!

I was over the moon, completely all because of their presence! Day 2 became my favourite day. And it kept only getting better!

We continued our walk around the convention, until we looped back around to the back where the meetup area was once more. There was a scribble wall nearby, where there were many people drawing whatever they wanted.

I saw a very familiar behind at the wall drawing, and I literally blurted out of nowhere:

“Is that…Elysia????”

She turned towards us a bit and I freaked out so much, it really was a Elysia cosplayer in her Flamechaser outfit! I already was so happy with Bronya and Seele, so I could have died there and then for real. I was winning so hard!!!

ELYSIA COSPLAYER AS WELL????? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS TREAT???????

ELYSIA AT MY ANIME CONVENTION RIGHT HERE????

My freaking out was cut a little short when a staff member, a lovely older lady, came up to us informing that we can take a marker and draw something as well. I took a purple one since I was Herta and purple is sort of her colour.

I continued my freaking out after she left, still in utter disbelief that there were THREE HI3 cosplayers here in this convention on this one day. I had to get a photo. It’s Elysia after all! One of my absolute favourites!

We waited until she finished her drawing, trying not to stare directly at her too weirdly. There was a short moment when we were just staring at each other after she finished, and I went up to her bravely since I had her attention.

I asked for a photo, and I told them her how much I Ioved her Elysia cosplay. That’s when she ran to her friend in utter happiness, so glad that someone recognized her!

I found it very adorable. I think it must feel amazing for someone to recognize who you are, especially if you're cosplaying from a fandom that isn't as popular (but it should be!!!).

Elysia (@_lumistar.cos on Instagram)!!!

I got a photo with her, copying the classic Elysia pose because I had no ideas for myself. Pie also got a photo as well! After that, I was so giddy that I couldn't stop thinking about it all! I felt like my life was complete, you know?

We went up to the scribble wall since we had those markers still in hand, and left a little doodle! I didn’t take any pictures of it, but I drew a small Herta!

Pie then found the lovely older lady who gave us the markers to return them, and we had a lovely conversation about how her daughter loves HSR and how even she was interested in playing the game!

She even asked for photos of us for her daughter when we told her who we were cosplaying! I remember she wanted just Pie at first since he was talking mostly with her but when I told her who I was cosplaying, she wanted a photo of me too!

Such a nice person, I hope her daughter likes the picture! I love kind people like this, it's always so nice to talk to them!

Finally, we went to get some food after a few little detours that were very welcomed.

We bought Chips on a Stick!

I’ve never actually had it before, someone let me try a little one time back in 2016 I think…?

It was very tasty, but very filling and it took a while to eat on my part because I'm a slow eater. Pie and I sat down in a little corner and talked while we ate about many things. We had a wonderful discussion about Welt Yang himself and how Pie was the reason I like Welt so much!

I think the way they liked Welt made me starting liking him too, especially since I had him in HSR from the Departure Warp back when I first played!

I think I liked him even more once I started diving into his HI3 lore while playing the game and the fact that he's the Herrscher of Reason! The Second Eruption and Alien Space manga are my favourite ones that HI3 has made because Welt is such a focus in both of them!

Welt is just...so cool.

We were near one of the entrances in fact, which gave us the chance to admire all the cosplayers that came by! Everyone looked amazing, it's impressive how much effort everyone goes to!

(Photography: @steamkittens)

Pie and I went for our professional photoshoot when I finished eating! There was a very long wait as there were many before us who were all in groups and all had to have individual shoots as well…

The cosplayers who did Wriothesley and Neuvillette on Day 1 came up to us during our time waiting and talked to us! I was so happy to see them again!

I put on my Herta shoes for this immediately, but my feet hurt by the time I finally got my photos after 30+ minutes of waiting…

Pain.

One of the main issues I had was that I simply had no clue about the poses or expressions I would do for the shoot. We had to do three of them as I learnt rather quickly, and I couldn’t even think of one real pose!

I’ve never been very good when other people take my photos I’ve noticed, I feel like I look so stupid sometimes aha…

NPC style….🧍‍♂️

It was a cool experience regardless! I’m glad I did try it out! It’s so cool how instant the photos are, they give you a QR code to scan to see all your photos!

I only liked two of the photographs at the end once I scanned the code after. I’ll definitely practice my poses and expressions for my next cosplay so I don’t run into this issue again!

(Photography: @steamkittens)

Pie’s photos came out amazing though! Their poses and expressions are so good, I don’t know how he does it.

Teach me, please.

We then went to buy prints for each other at the Artist Alley! It’s a tradition we always do for every convention! Pie went to the very back, while I started from the front of the alley. I walked through it all and stared at all the pretty art in an attempt to see which print I would buy them.

I knew I wanted something either from the Legend of Zelda, Persona or Welt Yang himself since he likes all of those! Fun fact, I literally was right next to Pie at one point, I saw them and immediately tried to lean in and blend in with the crowd lmao

I actually ran into the Aventurine cosplayer from earlier at one of the stands! I thought they were selling, but in fact they were helping out and there was a lot of cool art there! We had a little chat before I awkwardly walked away like I always do in these situations, I'm no good at these sorts of things aha

I saw a perfect Welt Yang print, but it didn’t come in A3 unfortunately……..I was even waiting around for the artist to come back from their break…….

We usually get A3 prints for one another, so I didn’t know if Pie would be okay with it or not. I probably should have asked but I didn’t think I’d run into such a situation….

But I did find a really pretty Link print! That's what I bought for them at the end! Pie really liked it, so I’m really happy!!!

They bought me a Pearlina print with their Final Fest outfits and I absolutely love it, you have no idea! Thank you again, Pie!!!!

I already put it up on my wall, hehe.

The only issue with all this was that none of us had a bag for our posters, the stands we went to ran out of them.

Pie was able to roll it up and put it in his tote bag, but I didn’t have that luxury without bending the print. I was going to carry it around and hope for the best, but they said we should try asking for a bag from another stand.

We waited around at one, but I decided to buy myself a print so I could get a bag. It was easier than waiting around, and there was always the possibility that any artist wouldn’t want to give one away since it was theirs.

I got a Gawr Gura print! It’s so cute!!

I was going to do Just Dance, but I didn’t feel like doing it by the end, nor was I as thrilled about the fact that there would be so many people watching you dance and that they don’t even give you a Joy-Con so you can actually play the game properly.

How will anyone see the 5 stars I can get easily because I’ve played too much Just Dance in my lifetime?

I decided that I’d dance next time!

With that, we decided that it was time to leave. We did everything we wanted at the convention for Day 2, but it wasn’t over just yet! As we were about to leave through the gate, a cosplayer rushed after us wanting a photo. We could hear footsteps behind us, and we turned back to see them!

Pie managed to convince this old guy to go to the convention actually as we were walking back to the station lol

Heading back to the city, we went to Rundle Mall once again! This time around, we didn't even care that we were in cosplay. We became totally desensitized to it all.

We entered the Adelaide Arcade since we were looking for some food to eat, but we actually took some photos from one of the bridges on the second floor! It was Pie’s idea, and it was pretty fun! I don’t usually go up there so it’s a fun excuse to.

We also went to the Million-Life Arcade and took some pictures there!

Once again, curtesy of Pie. I like their picture because it looks like Welt is really going through it for this one plushie lol

At the end, we decided to have some Hungry Jacks (Burger King as others may know it as) to eat since we wanted something on the cheaper side. We wrote our character names for the order since we were in cosplay, but I forgot to take a photo of mine...

Seeing Joachim and Herta on the order screen was such an amazing sight, although no one probably knew who were were. They actually called out Herta's name, which was so cool. I wonder if any of the employees knew who we were.

I got a Whopper, it was so worth the $11 in my opinion (although it is a lot).

We headed to the Botanic Gardens to take some photos and videos!

It’s a huge garden that has so many places you can walk to and get lost in all the nature! Pie thought it would be the best place since we couldn't bother anyone there with our pictures. I don't get to go there very often, so I was happy we were!

That was the issue, however.

We wanted to find a secluded place with some solid ground where we could set up my tripod and record some short videos, which was way easier said than done aha

There were always people or something that ruined perfect spots for us, which only caused us to waste precious time since the Botanic Gardens were closing in about an hour and a half-ish....?

We actually entered a building that was apparently closed but we were able to enter regardless because someone else entered before us and we assumed we could go in as well...there was this lady who told us something in regards to leaving as we walked but we didn’t really hear her aha

We're breaking the rules in cosplay. Hell yeah.

Eventually, we settled on a place right in front of this greenhouse and we recorded some fun videos! We had a whole list, but we weren't able to get through them all unfortunately. I got to hit Pie with the Star of Eden actually, that was pretty fun! I was afraid of hitting him too hard but they said it was fine.

I also kept messing up this one sound that it was unfunny, I think we did it about four times before we got a decent one aha

Next time, we are taking way more videos! I guarantee we will for our next cosplays!

Pie and I packed up the tripod once we were told the Botanic Gardens were about to close by one of the workers and headed back to where the karaoke place was, since we were going to do karaoke again! We were debating if we should or not, but ultimately decided to!

There was a photo studio we were thinking of going to before karaoke, but it was closed when we got there…they weren't open on Sundays...

Once again, we didn’t read the sign in front of us. How did we manage to do this twice?!

Straight to Karaoke it was! It was harder this time around to choose a song since we did all the songs we wanted on Day 1. We even had to settle on doing anime openings at one point which was fun!

Especially for my case. It took me an embarrassingly long time to decide my final song…Sorry, Pie!

We wore the Dan Heng headbands and I set up my tripod once again to record some of the songs we sang for the memories! Pie told me that they didn't want to see the videos after, but one day in the far future I shall show them for fun muhahaha.

I think my favourite song that I did was Moon Halo for this day! I accidently spoilt an animation for Pie though in doing so...the video I used showed the full Everlasting Flames animation aha

I need to learn some more Japanese songs fully. I vow to learn at least two songs before the next convention! I want to impress Pie with my awesome Japanese hehe

Once 8pm hit...that was it! Our two hours were up and the wonderful weekend was over.

I headed back home, recording some TikTok’s for myself before ripping off my wig with adequate pain from all those bobby pins and taking off my cosplay.

I had so much fun this weekend! I won’t ever forget the experiences I had!

I saw so many amazing cosplayers! I was able to take photos with them and even talk to them! It makes me very happy that I was confident enough do this!

Thank you for coming with me, Pie! Once again, you slayed Welt Yang! I can’t wait until AVCon!

- Miku

[marvelmaniac715]

This is part seventeen of my Chucky transferring his soul into a human at the end of Seed au. This fic is shorter, like part ten, but I really wanted to write it anyway. As always, until the twins are 14 they’ll be referred to as he/him and she/her respectively, and in this fic both twins are five. 

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Why couldn’t Tiffany come to this instead? Chucky had begged and pleaded with her, but she couldn’t find a way out of work, so he had to give up his Saturday morning to attend a kids’ ballet class that his kid had begged to come to. The minute he said goodbye to the kid and sat down with the other parents his stomach filled with dread. He was the only father there, the other people sat in the waiting area were all middle aged women- most sporting a blonde bob. As Chucky mentally weighed up the pros and cons of abandoning his child at the class and retreating home, one of the mothers spoke to him.

“It’s so nice of you to babysit your kid and come to the ballet class, is your wife busy or…”

She thought he was single, just because he was watching his kid. He’d always found the idea of fathers ‘babysitting’ their kids to be slightly odd, because he was just doing his job as a father, it wasn’t really anything to congratulate, and he’d tried to worm his way out of it. But instead of acknowledging that, he decided to just shut any thoughts that he was single right down, so he told her:

“My wife’s an actress- Jennifer Tilly, maybe you heard of her? So I’m looking after the little gremlins today- one of them at least, the other one’s at a play date with a friend because the teacher banned them from this class due to emotional distress my child caused. Poor woman, I hope she’s getting some therapy with the money I had to pay her…”

There was a chorus of awkward laughter from the assembled mothers, and Chucky felt even weirder. At least he’d now made it clear that he was off the market, but what would happen next? He didn’t have to wait long to find out, because another mother politely asked:

“When did you enrol your daughter? I thought that the stores were all out of the specific tutus that this class requires? A friend of mine tried to book a place for her daughter and couldn’t because she couldn’t find the right tutu.”

Chucky shrugged and responded:

“I didn’t need to buy a tutu on account of the fact that the child I enrolled was a boy, my daughter’s been banned by the teacher, remember?”

Palpable shock waves ripples throughout the room. Noticing the shock his words had produced, Chucky raised an eyebrow and asked:

“Is this the wrong building? I was told that both girls and boys were accepted at this ballet class, and my son’s been so excited to dance like the ballerinas he saw in Swan Lake last Christmas.”

This silenced many of the women, but one brave mother sneered:

“Is it really a good idea to have a boy in the same changing rooms as the girls?”

Chucky was getting angry now, why was it so wrong that Glen wanted to learn ballet?

“Well, I’m sure something will be worked out by the teacher, especially since I gave her a heads up and she’s taught male students before. And if you’re worried about my son being a Peeping Tom, my wife- a terrifying woman who I love very much, and my Spartan warrior of a daughter have both put the fear of God in my son about messing with women. My kid wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s probably scared of flies hurting him, so there’s nothing to worry about there.”

The woman still looked concerned, so Chucky smirked and politely enquired:

“Didn’t your daughter get five detentions in a row for biting multiple classmates?”

The woman turned bright red.

“W-what’s that got to do with anything?”

Chucky tried to appear innocent, despite the smug grin that threatened to appear on his face, and simply said:

“Oh, nothing. I’m simply saying that you’ve no place to judge other people’s parenting decisions, instead I think you should think about your own.”

This kept all of the mothers in the waiting area silent for the rest of the class, in fear that their own parenting would be called out. And when Glen skipped out of that class at the end and began rambling about all the fun things that had happened, Chucky felt a lot better about his decision to take Glen to this ballet class.

[adder24]

Mohawk Reynolds went to Wales Comic con

To all I know and love, here is tagging you

@untilthe12ofnever @nuggsmum @alwayscaskett810 @the-boneyard-rider @hellostickerdoodle @superlc529 @happiness-in-the-dark @my-happy-corner @nfcastle @dailynathanfillions @abettis41319 @captkatecastle @frenchfrostpudding @gracielaposts

Well actually it was more Telford than it was Wales, there is a whole 61 miles between the Welsh boarder and Telford. ANYWAY not the point!

First I did a Video explaining it, just in case you are not keen on reading me ramblings

I traveled and stayed over night, all by myself and attended the comic con...all by myself! Probably not a great deal to some people but to me it was a huge massive bloody step in my ongoing tussle with my mental health.

Probably asking why I decided to take this leap, welp let me show you why.

THIS GUY!

As soon as I was told he was attending I literally told myself "We're doing this!" because the chances of him attending another comic con in this country were probably slim.

So I took that plunge and yes I was DREADING it soon after I booked up, I was like "Shit I actually have to go" Talk about putting pressure on yourself.

I also made the Decision to dress up and of course it had to be Reynolds, only with a difference...I was having a Mohawk and at the very last minute, I decided "I'm taking Thor's hammer" because it's the most Mal esque job he would do. Can hear Badger approaching him and going "Got a weapon of the gods that needs shipping. You in?" and of course he and the crew would tussle over who can lift the damn thing!

So let me introduce you to Mohawk Reynolds.

I'm not very tall and the jacket was almost as big as me! However...people knew who I was portraying and that was all that mattered (Yes I was wearing suspenders but the jacket was hiding them) and a lot of people dressed as Thor were like "Reynolds, give that back"

So I walked around, got a few compliments , was told I looked awesome, got fist bumps and everything, I even had kids that wanted to try and pick up Thor's hammer. You'll be pleased to know they were worthy.

Anyway to the point Adder..stop venturing off, Yes I went and met Fillion!

He was lovely! At first, before I even got to him (I was one person out) My nerves was making my heart race and I said loudly (because nerves are twats), as I was coming up to be next "Now is not the time to have a heart attack Adds!" Which he heard...and he looked at me and asked if I was okay. Gave him the thumbs up, then I went over to him, he offered his hand and I shook it and then, I swear the guy must have known I was cheeky cause he studied me and went "So who have you come as?" And I was like "Dude!" And his response was "I'm kidding! I'm kidding, cool hair though!"

I got trolled by Fillion!!!

So picture got took and can I just say, the way that man moved me into position...holy hell! Put me under a mind spell I bloody swear.

Look at my stupid face!

Then the next thing was the panel, obviously it was a firefly panel with Nathan, Jewel Staite and Sean Maher (Mal, Kaylee and Simon) And they spoke about how 20 years on, it just won't die, how new fans are still being introduced and how pivotal this thing was for a generation of people.

Then the floor opened up for questions and...Oh man...man do my arms ache...but it was worth it! At first I was using my arms, then I got bored of that and was like "Sod it, I'm using the hammer" So up went the hammer, questions were going in and then after a little while the main presenter guy was like "That's all we have time for" Booo but then Nathan was like "We can squeeze a few more in!" Presenter guy was over ridden, up went the hammer again and HAMMER CAME IN CLUTCH! Nathan went "Last question, make it a firefly one, Go!" I shit you not, a guy with a mic BOLTED to me and went "You with the hammer! Stand up!"

Up I stood! Hammer on my shoulder and my first words were "Whaddup?!"

FOR GODS SAKE ADDER!!!

Anyway I then proceeded to go "I have Thor's hammer but who on the firefly crew would be able to lift Thors hammer?"

And they all went "Ooooooh good question"

Nathan said "It won't be Mal, he's not pure, he's a rogue" They also ruled out Jayne etc, however they all seemingly agreed it would be Simon and I went "Hey what about Kaylee?" And Nathan's response was "Kaylee's not pure!" And Jewel was like "Why not?! All she did was have sex!"

I almost caused a punch up *Evil laughter*

Now what I didn't mention, but I will now, is that Nathan was handing out bits of his script from the Rookie and a sticker, to those who asked a question. Now because I was the VERY last person, didn't expect anything but the guy who gave me the mic, ran down to Nathan and was like "Do you have anymore script bits?" And Nathan nodded his head, handed it to the guy and pointed AT ME before leaving. Turned out Nathan saw the hammer too and indicated to the guy to run to me! I didn't notice that but that was what this runner told me and I was like "HELL YEAH!"

I got some of his script!

I had a freaking amazing time too...Made friends, met some cool people saw some amazing costumes but the one that stood out for me was this guy dressed as Odin

All the leather, he hand stitched himself!

[amysubmits]

Submissive Autonomy

The person who abused me as a child and led to my PTSD is a family member. Thankfully they don’t live in my area and only come to my area once every several years at most. If they attend birthday parties or other social events while they are visiting, I have just not attended those events. 

Recently they came up for a graduation. The person graduating is a close genetic relative of theirs, but has had very little emotional relationship with them. I’ve been close with the graduate their whole life. 

I feel really strongly that the “just keep the peace” mentality that encourages victims to be cordial with abusers in social settings for the social comfort of everyone involved - is harmful. I think it’s harmful for the victim, can be harmful for other family members who see this person treated “normally” despite being an abuser, and I think it can empower the abuser. 

I also feel strongly that when I love someone, I should show up for the big events in their life, graduation included. 

So, I was conflicted about what to do, at first. Not going to graduation felt wrong, like I wouldn’t be showing up for this kid I love and who deserves my support. Going and acting relatively normal as far as sitting with my whole family felt wrong, because it would seem like disrespecting myself, and just behaving in a way that I don’t believe in. 

Going but sitting away from my whole family just to avoid the bad guy seemed weird and dramatic. I would normally never attend and event like this and not sit with my other family members. 

I asked CD what he thought I should do, sharing the pros and cons of all 3 options that I saw. 

He said he thought I should skip graduation, as we could go to the open house anyway, and we knew the abusive guy wasn’t going to be at the open house. 

He said his second place suggestion would be to go, but to sit away from family, and to show up at the last minute and leave early to avoid seeing the person.

I basically repeated all of my worries about all three options, still feeling very conflicted. He said he understood my hesitations with each, and that it was totally up to me, and he’d be with me regardless of which option I went for. 

I wrestled with my options for another day or two, but ultimately we went but stayed away from family, arrived at the last second and left early to avoid seeing family. 

I explained to CD at one point that I felt a little bad not going with his first suggestion, but that I knew I’d feel bad not going. I had to try to find a way to reconcile my different values and priorities and going but avoiding the family seemed like the best way to do both. 

It’s not that it’s unusual for me to make decisions for myself, or anything. But it is a bit rare for me to not take CD’s advice. I knew his first choice was based on wanting to protect me as much as possible - which I love and appreciate. Not going with his first suggestion wasn’t a rejection of his leadership or dominance, though. A least, I don’t see it that way. As I see it, there are some areas in life where submissives have to maintain autonomy for their own wellbeing. 

I love that CD and I have similar values and priorities. We’re two different people though, and in the rare cases where we feel a little different about something that is deeply meaningful to me...sometimes I have to maintain autonomy. While phrases like “Daddy is always right” and “I’ll do anything he says” and “He has total control” may sound hot...I don’t believe in them. I hand over power to CD in a lot of areas, we live 24/7 D/s, but there are some decisions I need to make myself. 

[forbidding-souda]

Ok hear me out: SDR2 boys with an s/o who is like the Ultimate Nail Artist, an they either a) do a nail look on themselves for their bf, or b) gives their bf a manicure. This would be AWESOME! ILYSM

SDR2 boys with a SHSL Nail Artist S/O

YES. yes. it's me i'm the nail artist s/o

i actually had acrylics a lot in hs but i decided to finally stop getting them because every time i did i just ripped them off each time. i'm like - addicted to ripping off acrylics like it feels so good and satisfying dni yes it tore my nail beds open but yes them shits recovered in months time.

these are shorter than my stuff usually is and i apologize i am struggling with thinking of specific non bullet point scenes to add.

-Mod Souda

Hajime Hinata

❤ I think he would be opposed to have his nails done at first. If he's still attending school then it would be a definite no - he doesn't want other people to see it. But if he's grown man with his own job and shit then he doesn't care that much about people seeing it - he's matured. I mean - nothing like acrylics of course. But maybe if you want to do stars on his nail beds or a light pink color then it would be fine. He loves it when you hold his hand for minutes on end. The whole hand touching is super his-type-of-affection.

"Don't you love it?" You ask, intertwining your fingers with him, something that catches him off guard - his nails are still drying!

"I do." His voice is a big more monotone than you intended it to be, but the kind words still make you smile. You glance at his nails once more (like you've done one million times in the last hour) before kissing each of his knuckles.

You chuckle. "So pretty, Hajime."

Your eyes meet his and you're surprised about how flustered he looks.

❤ He's powerless against you if you beg to paint his nails.

❤ If the two of you are still attending Hope's Peak and one of his classmates asks to see his painted nails he will say no and walk away all embarrassed.

❤ He likes looking at them all the time, though. He'll just stare down at his nails and get butterflies thinking about you.

.

Nagito Komaeda

❤ He slays. Whatever you want to practice on him, he'll allow it. He can get you touching up on his hands for hours at a time and he gets a cool nail thing out of it? Excellent. No con. Do you wanna give him acrylics? That's fine - any color and any shape and even length. He likes the coffin shaped ones the best. With him you mostly practice stiletto - even though you don't really need practice you still like to make sure you're still on top of your game.

❤ You can hear it - the click clack from even the other room. It makes you press your face into your hands. Maybe you shouldn't have given him acrylics.

❤ Despair Komaeda - I can imagine him bragging to Junko about having better nails than her lmfao.

❤ He clacks his acylics around and taps them against stuff LMFAO.

❤ Will just sit there wiggling his fingers and listening to the sound of his acrylics hitting each other.

❤ He stops wearing socks because they're such a bother to put on with the long nails.

❤ When he types on his phone it always makes him smile with amusement.

.

Teruteru Hanamura

❤ Can't do the nails. They'll stress him out too much work-wise. If it were his decision, he would love to have nails. He thinks they look so pretty and they're especially special coming from you. But he needs sanitary hands to be a cook, and he isn't too content with always having gloves in the workplace when that can easily be avoided anyway - he'd be worried about the nail polish chipping off. And if he had to choose acrylic shapes then he would have them be oval or almond - they'd match his finger shape. Even though he won't let you do the cool art, you can still give him a very subtle manicure just for nail health.

❤ You doing his nails means he gets to sit close to you.

❤ You find he really likes just looking at your face - which is mostly because he still can't believe somebody as beautiful (and talented) as you genuinely likes him.

❤ But literally like he does not stop looking directly at you and it gets a little uncomfortable once you actually notice.

.

Nekomaru Nidai

❤ Finds your art absolutely beautiful. When he's talking about you he always calls you an artist. Which, you are, but people always assume you're a painter or a musician. Nail art is the last thing that comes to their minds. But when he shows them pictures of all the collections you have - they see what he means. It is a masterpiece. Sometimes you wear these for yourself, to which he beckons you over so his teammates can see your glamour.

❤ He literally brags about you all the time like he is so prideful to be with you.

❤ He's never like "I chose a good one" but instead "a good one choose me".

❤ See the two of you are like a salon smh you do nails and he does massages.

❤ Ya'll can quid pro quo.

❤ And also Akane is going to be literally in love with you and think you are perfect for Nekomaru.

❤ She's going to force him to let you do his nails.

.

Kazuichi Souda

❤ He is hesitant to compliment it - but god does he think it's beautiful. Sometimes he gets in his own head about manliness and the 'proper' way to act. Even though there's no evidence to back it up, his mind convinces him that if he compliments your nails that you'll think he's too feminine, or think that he's being annoying. Throughout these bad thoughts, he still sits by your side and watches you do art. When it comes to customers, he's not very social, instead just nervously bouncing his knee while he stares down at their hands.

❤ You'll finally just offer him to sit in the client's chair and let you take a look at his nails.

❤ He's surprised at how with a quick glance you can immediately know what he does with his hands.

❤ ^ It's almost the same with how he works with cars - one long look and he can diagnose pretty easily.

❤ Once he gets used to having his nails painted (and realizing like no one cares other than him) then he'll like a touch up once a week, thank you.

❤ He takes care of his nails a lot better now that he's with you.

❤ Whenever he fucks up his nails on something mechanical he will get very sad.

❤ Souda has five letters and his hands have five fingers just saying.

.

Gundham Tanaka

❤ All your gloomy works are his favorite. He thinks of it as you spreading the occult. To him, all the colors you use have a more complex meaning - and the animals are symbolism of some kind. If the client wants pastel colors he try to convince you to paint some sort of thing like a rabbit on it to symbolize lust and sacrifices. His favorite art of yours is one of a graveyard with the moon in the air. It was so melancholic yet so beautiful - he almost wanted it on his own nails.

❤ He asks you every day to see the work that you did - he wants to see pictures so after ever job, you take a picture of the nails and save it in a folder of "Gundham hasn't seen these one yet."

❤ ^ When you show him I can imagine him being like "good... good.. yess... excellent."

❤ He won't personally want his nails to be painted all the time because he's worried the animals might accidentally ingest it.

❤ Wants to know if you'll do animal nails.

.

Twogami

❤ He likes that thing - it's individualistic. It makes you more special compared to everybody else, and he admires that about you: how unique you are. Everything you do is unique. Even each nail look - they never look the same. They're irreplaceable, just like you. You're so consistent with your ability yet so unpredictable, it's a security but also a thrill. He couldn't imagine choosing to be with anybody else other than you.

❤ I imagine he would not let you do his nails because it'll mess up his whole perception of the person who he's trying to be.

❤ But once he finally stops trying to pretend to be other people, he's going to allow himself to have that individuality.

❤ ^ Probably likes white tips. Or polka dots.

.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

❤ Everything with stripes is his favorite. He loves the look of stripes no matter what color they are (but of course, his favorite color of stripes is white). Basing colors off of him is very easy, he likes wearing the same suit everyday, so when you come home with your nails matching his color scheme, he notices immediately. He takes your hands into his own and kisses your knuckles. He can be so affectionate when you flatter him enough.

❤ Takes no shit from other people if they to make fun of his nails. He will get Peko to beat the shit out of them.

❤ Also you and Peko can bond over you doing her nails! Fuyuhiko insists.

❤ Him and her can get matching nails.

❤ Omg imagine if his clan got a specific nail look to identity each other.

[persephoneyss]

Doomeds.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f! Reader. Ft. Bts.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish, suspense.

Summary: ❝We are doomeds, wandering in eternal suffering.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / stalking on cameras, humiliation, unspecified forced marriage, n*n-c*n explicit sexual relations (on the reader), abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use, kidnapping, hitting, manipulation, dating previous trauma, alcoholism and depression (in Yoongi), accusations of infidelity, dub-con (in Yoongi's case), the reader is in school but is of legal age, death threats, really strange facts. Possibly this would qualify as dark fantasy since everything is so unrealistic.

Number of words: 10,000+

︙Author's note: *sighs* This is the longest fic I've ever written, and I honestly don't know how it turned out because I didn't read it twice like I always do before publishing it. But my beautiful baby helped me correct, I hope you enjoy it and please read the warnings well, I do not want lawsuits. Thanks for being here!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

If they ever had to ask the reality of events it would be ... Unbelievable. Thinking of how just a simple action changes everything in an already established and perfect environment.

A life.

Your minutes, hours and days were the same under your criteria and eyesight, you study in the mornings, you work in the afternoons and you attend to your homework at night. It was a good routine that used to be repetitive at times, it was fun to follow, even more so in your part-time job.

You could meet many people working in one of the best cafes in the city, your classmate insisted too many times that you work with her saying that could recommend you and you should not even pass a test, they would only accept you for her.

It was a good opportunity and you accepted it with a smile, although she was long gone from work, you were still grateful for the good salary and health insurance that they gave you every month.

"An American coffee with a spoon of sugar and a green tea cake with cream on top." Your mouth and hand move in sync, the client nods silently. You smile, pointing out other details before asking what name you would give the order.

With a sigh, he name came out like a gust of light wind. "Min... Min Yoongi."

You write his name on the screen, the little receipt paper comes out of the machine. You hand it to him by brushing his hand with yours, strangely cold and pale. A chill runs through you but you ignore it, continuing with your work.

"Good Morning _____!" One of the employees greets you kindly, you correspond still concentrated on serving the mysterious stranger's coffee. "Do you have a request for me?"

"Oh, uh... Yeah, this is for table four."

Yun smiles taking the tray with Yoongi's coffee and cake, arriving at his table. The man's expression can be dazzled even under his black mask that covers half of his face, his eyes look for you before colliding with you. YYou refuse to play along, continuing with your work, you had a lot to do and wasting time flirting wouldn't really help you make money.

However, it became pointless trying to ignore him when he kept coming back day after day. Week after week. Tormenting your head, Yoongi was not the first nor the last handsome man you would see coming often, your work establishment was literally in a strategic area and not cheap, you knew that many men and women with money frequented them to drink a coffee or eat some delicacy, even sometimes they only came in to sit for a few hours attending to their affairs over the phone.

It was fine, it was comfortable. You weren't expecting too much, sitting behind a counter, always having to fake a smile despite being tired.

Perhaps it was the constant visits that led you to start a conversation with him. You had about an hour of rest, you prefer to spend those few moments sitting in front of the window of the premises eating any cake that was a few days before expiring to avoid paying for consumption, you felt comfortable in that place that seemed so far from all the other clients.

Until his voice interrupted once, he seemed as calm as ever. His gaze lost from you elsewhere avoiding making contact with you, nervous apparently. His rough and austere tone was changed to a bolder and lower one, asking if he could sit next to you for a few minutes.

"Sure, sit down... he's not busy." It was your answer without having any problem in sharing your place so secret, so comfortable. It was still just as safe even with him present.

And in much the same way, everything became a silent routine. You heeded his order, you took your rest next to him and then you both left at one point. The talks became more common, he being the first to ask about such insignificant things as the rise in the market in the country and how prices should start to rise in coffee as well.

You laughed, you really did it by getting his attention and sharing your reaction.

They both started laughing at how strange it all started, and it was always the perfect anecdote to tell their friends about how they met.

Everything was perfect, like a painting by a great artist, what you would see would be beautiful and cheerful colors, adorning both of you possibly holding hands with a smile and a loving expression from the man who was now your partner. Her pale skin and angelic face represented on beautiful thin paper, presented to the world as a painting that reflected a symbol of love between two souls met in a casual cafe and who wanted each other so much. Too much.

Yoongi was the clear representation of an ethereal person, casual and elegant, polite and kind, protective but not possessive. Simply to the target.

Your routine didn't change much after starting your relationship, you kept walking to your school in the mornings, you attended the cafeteria in the afternoons and you rested at night. Perhaps the only significant thing that you would get out of your boring schedule was your boyfriend's proposal about moving with him to the house of his best friend, almost a brother as he described it, and avoiding paying for your little apartment. You had made one and a thousand excuses, making Yoongi shut them all up.

"Jin is my brother, he would never take advantage of us. I already mentioned the proposal, about you... I have been living there for a few weeks, I assure you that you will be like family."

Family?

Your face relaxed for a few seconds, you had abandoned that feeling and sensation long ago since you moved from your home in your native country. Your mother used to call you every night but little by little that habit was lost, she also had her own problems and being aware of you as if you were a child was ridiculous.

"It's fine." It was your final decision, nervously you moved your hands in the air explaining what you would not accept.

Do not invade your privacy.

You had spent days thinking about how to introduce yourself to them, because apparently there would be more than just Jin, Yoongi and you in that house. Your things were scattered in boxes, you stood in the middle of the almost empty room still nervous about meeting new people and friends of your boyfriend.

That they were now family. Literally family.

The moving truck was parked in front of a large house, it had two stories and an incredibly large garden. More like a forest than an ordinary garden, you got out of the car trying to clean your clothes as much as possible and look presentable. Although it was difficult when your whole body was covered in dust after lifting the boxes.

"I'm not ready, Yoon." You say, containing your anxiety that vibrates to the surface of the skin within you.

Her hand gently brushed your cheek, giving you a bit of reassurance. "You look beautiful, they will accept you anyway." Her lips came up to yours, giving you a quick and soft kiss. "I just remember that I love you, and I know all my brothers will too because you are perfect."

You thanked the little compliment in a whisper, the door of the house opened just after the two of them left, you automatically showed a friendly smile approaching the first person to leave. He was a tall and rather handsome man, he seemed very well dressed to be indoors on a Sunday, more like he was going out to an important business meeting. He looked flawless and elegant.

"The suit was not necessary, Nam!" Shouted your boyfriend behind you mocking, the man laughed showing all the charm of him to your eyes.

"I'm Namjoon, Yoongi's friend. Nice to meet you... _____, right?"

"Yes, it's me. Sorry to see me so disastrous, it was a tiring day with the move."

Namjoon seemed like a very nice and incredibly understanding guy, his presence made you want to meet your boyfriend's other friends. You opened the door entering the house after Yoongi asked you to find your room to start carrying the other things, Namjoon stayed behind to help him, leaving you alone on your unknown route. You walk all over the place and you are surprised that you only walked through the living room, your eyes straying to a noise in the kitchen.

Curious.

You ignore it, continuing your way up, you read every name on the doors. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All written brilliantly on each different door, you walk a few steps to one that says your name and you thank it with a sigh.

You weren't surprised by how big it was, everything inside that place seemed to be exorbitant and out of the ordinary.

"Oh, it must be you." You are surprised to hear a voice behind you, you turn around in fear before remaining calm. You recognized her face from a photo Yoongi had on her phone.

"Jimin?" You ask with fear of being wrong.

"It's me, it's nice to finally meet you. Jin-hyung said you're moving in a few days, I didn't think it would be so soon." His voice seemed to be calm but there was a hidden question. Why? Why were you there?

You take a few uncomfortable steps back. "It really was, but ... I thought it would be better to do it today that I don't have classes, plus Yoongi doesn't work this day and it seemed like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if bother you."

"No you don't. it's okay, Welcome." With that one simple word he left.

You thought you would have a longer talk with him but you weren't expecting too much, they didn't even know each other and you plan to chat with him like they were old acquaintances. Well, naive.

It seemed strange to you that no one else showed up in the whole house, even when you were uploading the last boxes of the move no one seemed to be a little curious to meet you. Aside from the already friendly Namjoon and the reserved Jimin.

"Yoon" You get his attention, he smiles at you taking the sheets out of your suitcase and making your makeshift bed ready for the night. "Do your friends work today?"

"I guess so, they really don't spend a lot of time together or at home." Explain without noticing your downcast face. You nod, putting the issue aside and concentrating your eyes on arranging your clothes. "Hey... Okay, you can meet them all at dinner today."

Your chest clenches in anguish, "Dinner?!"

"Yes, darling. It's the only time they meet all day, when Jin-hyung cooks for us especially on days like these where we have pleasant surprises."

You purse your lips annoyed, Yoongi smiles kissing your forehead so carefully and lovingly that it melts your senses. The mere presence of him made you want to continue with him forever, you relax for a few seconds hugging his body in silence. They both stay like this, with nothing to say but telling each other everything at the same time.

The thought of ever letting go scares you.

You wait several hours, still sitting in the same place where Yoongi left you. You should be presentable for dinner, you take a quick shower before running to change into a nice comfortable dress, you try not to overdo it but also not show disinterest. From the stairs you hear everyone's mixed voices, chatting animatedly.

"Honey, come here." Yoongi watches you, being the only one to notice that you were peeking in the shadows still unsure of interrupting.

You say hello by walking a few steps until you reach your boyfriend's side, you present yourself the best you can. Everyone falls silent, Namjoon smiles at you just like he did before. Jin interrupts the moment where no one seemed to have anything to say about you, or if he wants to want to introduce himself.

"Today we have a special guest, the dear girlfriend of our brother. I introduce myself, I am Jin the official cook of this family." His body bends down with an exaggeratedly long bow, proud of his words. Jimin rolls his eyes, while his other siblings just choose to tease. "On Yoongi's orders we made her favorite dish, so I don't want any complaints of any kind about the food. I'm looking at you Jungkook."

You are surprised how well everything is going, you feel praised when your favorite food is in front of you. She looked just as elegant, as if you were eating in a five-star restaurant and at a luxurious table with silk tablecloths.

Jungkook still stayed away from the talks, preferring to eat quietly and fiddle with his phone. Hoseok was more animated, asking about you and exaggerating anecdotes that happened with his childhood friends. He moved you that he will still remember all that after years. Namjoon vaguely drew your attention with book recommendations when you commented on your love of reading, Jin quietly continued eating in complete tranquility, Jimin thanked the food and just left.

Taehyung... He seemed interesting to you, he was looking at you all the time with narrowed eyes and when Jimin got up and walked away, he followed closely with a small and almost hidden smile.

You had a strange feeling inside what they called home.

"I-I... I need to use the bathroom." You say goodbye by wiping your lips with a napkin before quickly walking behind them both. Something attracted you to want to know more, as if they were leaving clues knowing that curiosity killed the cat and that you wanted to be the one.

Your steps were quiet, even more so when you tried not to be noticed . You went upstairs listening to their voices whispering and then... An obscene moan was clearly heard, Jimin seemed to laugh in the air.

Your hands shook thinking of opening the door and seeing what was happening. And without knowing it, you had fallen into the same network of attraction as them.

You curse yourself biting your tongue and cheek until they bleed, sure that you were going to make a big and heavy mistake. Minutes later you are going down the stairs back to the table but no one is waiting for you anymore, the table was just as spotless and clean. You are pleasantly surprised to learn that they don't treat you like a guest and that they don't wait too long for you. Maybe they had things to do, however you feel a chill when silence comes.

Where were?

You look around the yard, but no one is outside. Neither in the kitchen and less in the room where you had already walked twice. You catch the sound of drums in your ears rumbling loudly, you close your eyes in a daze for a few seconds until in an instant it goes away, and then everything comes back to itself. You hear their voices upstairs, chatting animatedly for the second time.

"Where were you sweetie? Are you okay?"

You nod still confused. How did they... When was that... You were really fine? You refuse to fall into paranoia and lie down next to Yoongi, as they continue their conversation with each other. Your head keeps spinning with the fresh memories you have, but they seem to disappear second by second and it scares you, you open your eyes without wanting to fall asleep yet but it is as difficult as breathing.

You fall into the dark abyss of sleep, feeling the same chill.

Your gaze is lost in the gray sky, you are cold and your body is swaying. Your eyes move restlessly observing that you are under the snow and a person holds you in his arms through the forest, walking at a slow and safe pace.

It's fine. Are you okay.

Wake up. Yoongi greets you from the door of your now room, you try to regulate your breathing thinking that he would notice your overwhelmed state and he would worry, but no. He is as calm as ever, relaxed even.

"Good morning beautiful, it's time for breakfast. Jin-hyung made your favorite." And with that last sentence she is shifting away, closing the door behind he.

You go down the stairs ready to go, your backpack resting on your shoulder. The table is just as full as at dinner, Jimin seemed very tired trying not to fall asleep, you watch him for a few seconds before looking at Taehyung who ignores you taking his cup of ... Coffee. You approach making him recoil alarmed and disgusted, you check the cup realizing that it is the same recipe that you use in the cafeteria.

Like them?

You look up noticing that, you were uncomfortable, Taehyung takes a few steps away from your body almost leaning against his, still sitting in his chair. You apologize to him making me sigh irritated, still ashamed you apologize again without eating or serving anything, just leaving through the front door.

Your journey is reflective. You forget, dream and recognize, that was the pattern you were following, everything seemed so strange and deep down gloomy, you feel the already casual chill running through your entire body almost like a warning.

Your seat in class was empty waiting, ready for you. Ari greets you, being your table companion and friend.

"Hey, intense night?" She jokes, you look shaking his head. She laughs pointing your neck. "You have... something there."

She frowns even more confused, her face leaves her smile aside and she starts looking at her things until she takes out a small mirror and she hands it to you. You look with horror at a large red bruise painting on your skin, it seemed painful but you had not even noticed or felt it. You touch it still scared and nothing, it doesn't hurt or it seems real.

You take a deep breath before lying with silly chatter, "I had an accident, but I'm fine. I had forgotten I was there, it was nothing serious."

Ari seems worried but in the end she forgets it by returning to the same kind and joking attitude of her, but her gaze drops from second by second to your neck making you cover yourself uncomfortable. Who? It can't be Yoongi, he was always very calm in that regard. You think terrified, your hand goes up to touch it and this time you manage to feel a sharp pain.

You have to cover it with the collar of your shirt so that no customer will notice it and avoid staining the reputation of the cafeteria, you smile nervously taking orders as fast as you can and avoiding looks. Yun greets you like every day, arriving at his work time. You spend hours begging for the clock to advance faster, the night sky appears and the doors close, you clear the last counter before you can finally show your neck again and breathe.

"That's a big problem." Yun whispers looking at the horrible mark, you nod with a sigh giving the same stupid excuse you told Ari. "You should use a little makeup to cover it up, I think it will help you a lot."

You think about it for a few seconds before deciding what you would do. You bow to him with a bow after he offered to close in your place and finish the remaining work for you.

You come home with a smile, you greet Namjoon who is reclining on the couch in the living room watching something on TV. You wait a few seconds but you do not receive a small or accidental look, you approach a few steps to repeat it again but you only get him to get up and go upstairs closing the door of his room apparently with a door slam. What the hell? You think covering your face with your hands looking for some comfort.

Everything was happening inside you, it was like a whirlpool sweeping away your sanity. Were you going crazy? Or you were just thinking a lot about nothing.

You try to draw a picture of your situation, but the only thing that repeats is the constant painting of Yoongi and you together.

"Yoongi!" You say to yourself with a smile, you drop your backpack running towards his room, wanting to see him after such a day.

Your hopes fade like air, everything within the space him screams 'he', but he is not there. You check the safe time that he should be home at that moment. You hear Jin's voice screaming from below about dinner ready, you sigh losing your appetite at those moments.

You lie on your bed checking your cell phone in case there was a message from Yoongi warning about he delay but nothing. You feel empty for some strange reason, but there was nothing different about it now.

If I had been more attentive and conscientious, you would have noticed that two more people other than Yoongi and you were missing from the table. Jin smiles sitting in his same place leaving your plate not caring without you being there with them, his smile never fades even when all his brothers are sitting silently eating and looking at your empty place so intensely that it was terrifying, he squeezes the cutlery in his hand without wanting to break the tradition in his family.

Dinners are sacred and no one should be missing. There will be no discussions or complaints, that's what the rest of the time is for.

That was what her mother said, sitting at the table in her old home containing her anger at seeing her husband so calm after having been unfaithful once more. Not on the table, not on the table.

Not on the table, honey.

Jimin opened the last bottle with a little satisfaction, poured another glass before handing it to his friend who was only glaring at the ground.

"She's not like that... I know her." Repeating the same stupid prayer for hours, Taehyung rolled his eyes trying to calm his annoyance, looking at his other friend insisting that he help him.

"Yoongi-hyung you saw it yourself, she had that... That mark. you didn't do it, maybe Tae is right and she-..."

"Not!" I scream interrupting what to him were lies. "_____ she's my girlfriend, she's not like that. I know her ... she loves me! She loves me! Do you understand?" Says exalted, holding the shirt of his friend who closed his mouth immediately, Jimin noticed that same reflection of anger in him and knew it was better to leave it for now.

Taehyung pushed the drunk Yoongi away from his side, making him release him and repeat the same phrase as in his state, he tried to believe himself.

The door to your room was opened and the smell of alcohol invaded you, making you look disgusted. You closed your eyes without wanting to see him, his body fell to the side of your bed approaching your body so slowly that the anxiety inside you doubled.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

His hands rested around you, giving you that warmth so familiar and comfortable in your gray days. A sob was heard while you lost yourself in your own thought, you watch it melt into your arms crying and without wanting to tell you why.

"It hurts." It's the only thing it says. But... Why?

You wake up. Just like a week ago, days had passed and it seemed like your skin kept accumulating horrible marks all over the place. You even went to consult a doctor but he only insisted that something... Or someone did them with such fury that it was incredible that a piece of skin will not be torn off by the force of his suction.

You touched the last mark that came, it was dangerously close to your crotch, you try to hide the others with makeup but they were still visible at a short distance.

You went down the stairs to see them all again, you greet with regret taking the first thing you find. Your mug had your name written on it, it was a rather curious gift from Jin after your melancholic night with Yoongi days ago, he apologized explaining that he felt bad after hearing all the sobs and apologies. For a moment you thought it was something exaggerated but he kept insisting that he felt bad about himself, not with Yoongi who was almost his brother or with you, with him.

You accepted it without wanting to show your dislike for his selfishness and narcissism, thanking him so softly that he hardly heard you.

The special drink that morning was coffee... Americano. You felt insecure to drink it, and you just put it aside.

Same recipe.

Yoongi looked at you for a few seconds before smiling fondly, and you just looked away, leaving him with a confused face as you walk out the door so quickly that he can hardly feel you.

He sighed before being drawn to Jimin's grin-adorned face, he shrugged, hinting at his silent opinion. She is not faithful to you Yoongi, why do you keep waiting for something good? Only looks at her body, her attitude and who she surrounds herself with, it is a classic of womens. You will know that she is a fox hidden under her sheepsuit, just observing her more and you never leave her.

The marks on your body, your cold attitude made him more and more suspicious and fall for Taehyung's profound words. She bit his lip, refusing to spy on your life away from him... Out of his sight.

But he really wasn't doing anything wrong, just observing. In his now dirty head, everything was valid if he could know the truth.

You did the same thing you always told him on his nights where they stayed up talking about his heavy days. You went to school, to work, and then home. Nothing changed your version.

I try to focus on your friends, there was only one girl you spent more time with in your classes and after them. He researched everything about his life, but he had nothing to worry about after learning that he had a boyfriend. He passed your work, standing outside for hours waiting to see you do something dirty or guilty, but you never seemed to move.

You just served the orders and then kindly said goodbye to the customers. He felt guilty for doing something so low to you, until he saw you.

To you.

Your smile grew when one of the workers who was your partner approached your place in the box to whisper something in your ear, you left your place following him towards the warehouse.

Anger consumed him quickly, refusing to continue standing there observing the obvious, possibly he was being irrational and he knew it but the constant insinuations of Jimin. The conversations with Taehyung, his words, his suspicions, the pleased looks from they when he fell back at his feet asking them to tell him what to do with you.

With his damn relationship.

Where were you and him. Not them. You and he.

He opened the door to your room and started going through your things like a degenerate, something must have made him sure that you were cheating on him. Something, a letter, a note, a gift from him, or a simple cheap jewel.

This was your Yoongi? You were clearly looking at another subject.

"Yoon..." You started, his eyes coldly piercing you. He looked different, he was looking at you but you didn't feel safe being so close. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I do?" He asked how else he will not point to the obvious, for a moment you thought that even if it was, out of respect or dignity, he would try to deny it or find another explanation for his actions so offensive to you. "Where is?"

"Where is what?" You claim, starting to get angry, his eyes leave you again as he continues searching through your drawers, dropping everything to the floor with thudding noises. You get closer trying to push it away but you only get rejection. "Stop it, Yoongi."

"Not until you say so."

You freeze without knowing what he meant by the latter, you take his arm to stop him but you only receive a push that makes you back away this time scared by the force of his attack. "Enough!" You claim this time by making him look at you with his cold eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about and why you're doing this, but enough."

"Then say it..." You shout again that you don't know what he wants you to say, you even curse furiously making him come closer to support your shoulders with his hands bringing you closer to his face. "Say it damn it! Say you're cheating on me with that bastard son of a bitch!"

You feel the pain of his grip, you sob, begging him to release you but are ignored as he continues to ask you to say so. You refuse to lie, especially with something so degrading.

Jin hears the screams as he continues serving the dinner desserts, Jungkook strangely puts aside his phone for a few minutes to thank him with a small toast and a smile that was rarely seen on him.

"The dessert tonight is sweeter than usual."

Jimin raises his glass with a bright smile, Namjoon adjusts his tie tied perfectly around his neck as he sips from his glass, Hoseok laughs eating the delicious cake with enthusiasm.

Curious, a green tea cake with cream on top.

"It's a shame Yoongi-hyung misses out on dessert." Taehyung speaks pretending a pout on his lips, playing with his spoon with the cream on her plate. "It is especially exquisite today."

"Stop playing already, when will you do it? I'm looking forward to getting started." Jin snaps angrily, pushing the cake out of her sight as he drinks from her wine glass.

Jungkook laughs, turning his phone back on to continue playing as usual. "So impatient, hyung." He says he with a click of annoyance.

Jin rolls his eyes, following her gaze to Jimin who is innocently cowering in her chair. Ignoring how completely obsessed Jungkook is with his games, it really was not his business,for something his youngest friend had his parents, who were too busy with their work, they ran the largest electronics factory in the country, leaving his son in the background just giving him everything he asked for without objection. Always showing a smile when little Jungkook came before them demanding a new console or the best phone.

"It only remains to wait..." Whispering, he released a patient Hoseok. His smile as charming as ever. "For her to decide what to do and then... Plot! She fell into the wrong well."

"I hate when you describe and talk like that, but I can't expect much from a Jung... like you."

However, Hoseok never stops smiling even when anger is consuming his mind causing him to clench his fists under the table and bite his tongue inside his mouth, hidden by his gleaming and visible teeth. Namjoon smiles at her, knowing that she managed to provoke him but that she won't do anything to shut him up.

"Pathetic."

Motherfucker.

Jin breaks the tense silence, shushing everyone with a snap. That silence. Nobody hears anything from you or Yoongi, for a moment they feel the anguish that something bad has happened or that his friend has lost a bit ... The hand. But just seconds later you're rushing down, wearing the same clothes and your face covered in tears. You don't even look at them when you run to the door, leaving a trail of emptiness behind you.

"Hm, intense." This is Jungkook speaking, his eyes still lost on the phone screen of him playing a silly online championship. "She will be fine after hours."

"Jungkook is right, now we must move with Yoongi."

Namjoon gets up walking to your room, surprised that everything seems almost the same as it was before their fight.

He smiles when he manages to see his friend laying on the floor sobbing, and like that children's book called Pinocchio, he feels good being that cricket-shaped voice of reason. Only this time that sweet and serene voice, released one and a thousand blasphemies that would contaminate even the most devout by his beliefs.

He managed to convince Yoongi's easy to manipulate mind, blurting out words almost like a song. Playing with the naive self of hes that still lived and breathes inside him.

You had come home after days of spending with Ari and her boyfriend away from him. You really didn't want to set foot in that house again in years, a small irrational part of you believed that it was all his fault, your real problems started when you set foot in that damn place.

You open the door observing the room in the same way, empty. You try not to make yourself feel ready to go to sleep, without having been able to do it in days, but now you doubted that it would be different here.

You remain static in view of everyone, you had forgotten that at that time they were having dinner together. They only met once a day and it had to be right there.

"Good evening, sorry to interrupt." You ignoring Yoongi's gaze that, he's trying not to get too excited about your return, even though she causes he to euphoric whirl. "Carry on, I'll just go to my room."

"Please no, sit with us."

"I'm not well."

"I insist, sit with us. They were difficult days but I know they can fix it." Jin puts a plate in front of one of the empty chairs, you refuse to sit down but you do it out of compromise.

Everyone seems to be exclusively quiet, dinner was gray, like a black and white painting. Remember the first dinner, where everyone seemed to have so much to say and now that was left behind, Jungkook continues to play with his phone sometimes moving his plate by accident, without touching a single silverware with the intention of eating. Jin eats in peace, so slowly that he is strange. Namjoon reads a book in his hand, eating so cleanly that it's amazing.

Hoseok looks at you playfully from time to time, with a smile that almost makes you smile the same. Jimin and Taehyung seem to communicate silently, they both look at each other with slight grimaces and smiles.

"We can talk?" Yoongi whispers, you feel her breath next to you and instinctively you walk away scared. Still hurt by her actions and attitude, you give your vow of silence by standing up and without saying goodbye, you walk up the stairs.

"How rude." Jungkook interrupts, keeping an eye on his screen lighting up his beautiful face. "He didn't even taste the food."

Yoongi looks at Jin, her oldest friend and the one she trusted the most, seeking some advice. But just gets the same treatment as always, a look insisting that go with you and try to fix her mistake.

However, it was late. You had packed a makeshift suitcase by going down as quietly as you could, exiting through the back door like a thief or a fugitive.

You spent days thinking about your cowardly way of running away, but in the same way you felt better and even more so when you did not receive any message from him. Maybe it wasn't that important to him, it hurt but it also relieved you.

You knew it would be awkward to see him in the face again, but you should go back and get your things over with as soon as possible. You naively thought of forming a friendship, a very distant one, but in the end it would be the healthiest thing for both of you.

"______?" Asked the person who opened the door after you barely managed to ring the bell due to nerves, he was clearly confused.

"W-good morning ... Jin." You greet by taking a few steps back to get a better look at it, you had forgotten how tall it was. "Sorry to bother I just wanted to -..."

"Talk to Yoongi? I'm sorry but he's already better without you, he even met someone new." You were surprised by his austere, sour tone and trying to intimidate you. "And you better go, you are not welcome here."

"No ... No, I-I came for my things but I'm glad to know that it's better now, and that ..." The words stayed in your mouth, almost as if it hurt to admit it. "I was able to find someone, I hope we can be friends. Also with you, I'm sorry I left without explaining or saying goodbye properly."

You waited what seemed like ages for her response, and you expected more than a simple nod of the head, letting you pass without a hitch. You searched your room quickly, trying not to have any contact with any of them for now. You opened the door that had your name on it but you were scared by what you found inside, the whole room had been painted blood red, a very dark color that managed to give you such familiar chills.

"What is this? Where are my things?!" You turned around ready to go and claim but the door closed behind you with a stormy noise. You ran to try to open it but it did not move an inch, you searched the whole room for something useful to help you but it was completely empty, and alone.

You sobbed in fear, not understanding what was happening and why it seemed that the walls were getting narrower every second. You fell to the ground, trying to stay calm and without losing your goal, hours and even days passed for you, you waited to hear at least one noise but everything was so quiet that you had to avoid going crazy, you played with your hands trying to distract yourself and think positive things, you had read many books about stressful situations to know that thinking a lot about those things caused even more stress, you lie on the floor sure that a nap will calm everything down, if it was a nightmare you wanted to wake up and if not , you wanted to dream that it was.

A lock, you hear that particular noise and you wake up. You open your eyes as fast as you can lifting your body, the door was slightly open as if someone was exiting. You scream for help but it closes, you fall back into sadness and despair screaming even more for your freedom.

You didn't deserve this.

You look with regret at the delicious food they left for you, for a moment you think about going on a hunger strike but your stomach demands you not to be so stupid. The same would not change anything. Regardless of manners, you eat as fast as you can, dropping quite a bit of food on the ground in your rush.

It had an exquisite taste, and you could recognize it everywhere. It was one of your favorite dishes, you felt disgusted to compare it to your mother's food, but as magnificent as it was, it reminded you so much of her.

You wait for something to happen, but minutes go by in which you just look at nothing, letting your head fly. Thinking of a thousand things, playing with the spoon and singing in a low voice.

You feel hot from one moment to the next, your vision becomes cloudy and the door opens again. You just stay in the same place, you don't care about anything, not even how they hold you by helping you walk into another room.

"You were right, she is very calm now."

You look at him, their faces so familiar and you try to place them, but your head is flying away at that moment. You close your eyes laughing, and drifting into unconsciousness.

You wake up. You open your eyes and you are tied, you struggle with the ropes that hold your arms while the bed below you makes your body bounce. You touch the sheets realizing that they are extremely soft, you are in an unfamiliar room surrounded by scarlet red, with elegant and shimmering decorations. You try to stand up but your legs, like your hands, are tied.

And you're still quiet because of the rag in your mouth.

You fight the bindings furiously, screaming into the cloth as much as you can get sick of being locked up again.

You think of Yoongi, although at that moment it was irrelevant you wonder where she is and if she knew that she was being kidnapped in such a way, would she help you at least? Resignation covers you completely, fighting the bonds again with such force that you feel like they burn your skin every time you move.

You sob, just as he did one fall day.

Yoongi watches you from the monitor in another room, Jin is talking to Namjoon to the side while Jungkook is still sitting in a corner entertaining on her phone. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok seem reluctant to look at each other despite facing each other.

Remember the day, the one in the past, when he met them. Jimin and Taehyung were already friends playing in one of the children's castles, with their hands pretending to be weapons as they ran around. Hoseok was sitting next to his mother, talking and apparently they had a lot to say. Namjoon did not detach from the side of his father who urged him to go up to the games, while Jin was busy collecting Flowers in a basket that his grandmother was holding.

They were all strangers and even more so he, felt out of place surrounded by so many games and away from home. His parents had freed up a whole day to spend together in a decent park, it was several hours of travel from Daegu to Seoul only for his son to play in a beautiful park surrounded by luxurious buildings.

He dropped down next to her mother, hugging her without wanting to let her go.

"Min Yoongi, we didn't take this trip just for you to sit there all day, son."

"I'm scared..." he whispered, biting her lip and hiding her face in the neck of his beloved mother.

"I see... but the games look so much fun. Run and try them, love."

He nodded still uneasy, walking over to one of the swings where he sat rocking so slowly that he seemed still. He felt hands pushing his body from behind, scared he looked at the boy behind him, he had a smile on his face and waved him with a hand.

"Sorry, I thought you needed to be pushed." He spoke and did not seem at all nervous.

"I'm fine, but thank you..." There was a momentary silence before he interrupted again. "I am Yoongi."

"Hoseok, although my mommy calls me Hobi."

He smiled, offering himself this time to push the swing, they spent minutes like this just helping each other take a walk pleasantly. He didn't even think about it when Hoseok offered to talk to Jimin and Taehyung about how they'll all play together in teams.

Now in the present, he smiled again remembering how he met Jin that same day, he had collided with him when he was running so as not to be caught by Jimin. His older friend was flushed with anger, screaming for her flowers and his dirty clothes. His grandmother teased him a bit making him deny even more, he followed Yoongi for several minutes until the chase because of her desire to hit him became a game.

They both fell to the ground tired, laughing before Hoseok introduced himself to Jin. Namjoon arrived shortly after, curious about the commotion and why he had gotten bored of sitting for so long, as he explained later. Besides that his father didn't have the best conversation starters.

He cried so much that very day when he had to go home again, promising to return soon.

"We have everything ready, are you ready?" Jin stood next to him, his eyes looked at him but he couldn't recognize his childhood friend. The same one that he offered to organize his birthday parties when his parents could not afford them, the same one that he never took advantage of his money to lower it. The one who hugged him as many times as he could when he came out of his therapies after his parents died.

Who was this man?

"Y-yes." He murmured still stunned. He got up, following in his footsteps with his head lowered.

They opened the door showing him, you were distracted biting the cloth in your mouth and trying to move your hands to free them.

Your body felt the same repetitive chill making you look at them feeling their presences so... uncomfortable.

"Enough." Jin ordered as you continued your insistent useless movement, trying to free yourself. "I'm not playing around, stop."

Me neither, idiot. You clench your teeth as much as you can at not being able to say it out loud, you stubbornly keep moving even faster than before. Your hair falls on your face from your busy tossing and you stare at him, challenging his patience and judgment.

You try not to tremble when he approaches you with intentions that deep down manage to scare you. But you continue, the bed moves as fast as you do until his hand falls against your cheek causing a gasp to come out of your gagged mouth.

"Hyung!" Yoongi claims holding her hand to prevent her from trying to hit you again, you feel the particular burning on your right cheek and the tears growing back in your eyes. "Please, no blows. That was not what we agreed on."

Jimin cleared his throat, a satisfied smile on his face, "We never specified anything, actually... Yoongi-hyung."

"Jimin is right, you never specified any kind of restriction for her and us." Namjoon clarified making you look at them confused, it was as if they were talking in terms of employment or contract.

But you had never signed anything.

"B-but they can't do that, they'll never accomplish anything if they force her." He tried to persuade him but Jungkook sighed, dropping his phone to the ground and then stepping on it like it was worthless. "She will just hate them."

"She will do it anyway, if we let her off her or try to convince her to stick with sweet words she won't think twice and she will run away ready to report us for kidnapping."

"In addition to the damages that she suffered here." Namjoon continued to condemn Jungkook, uplifting her surname and her family's status.

"You are in this with us or against us, there is still a free place in the basement for you with chains just as heavy."

Again, the same chill ran through you causing you to cringe in your place. These men were insane, they were capable of betraying each other, and worse, they could possibly also consider shooting themselves in the back when they weren't looking at each other. All for you, as if you were some kind of prize for winning and owning.

After moments that seemed eternal, Taehyung was releasing your mouth as you began to complain about what they were doing, how they dared and demanding freedom.

Really a classic, so much so that it was witty and hilarious that you said it literally.

They forced you to kneel on the ground with your hands on your legs still perfectly tied. More questions filled your mouth not knowing what they were planning, all you could do was look at them so scared it was adorable.

"Uh... Well... I guess one should go first." Jin says, taking a few steps away from your crouched figure.

Jimin stepped forward, standing in front of you causing you to look up from your spot below him.

"What are you doing?" You ask weakly, you try to drag yourself away when his hand struggles with his pants to remove it but Jin holds you in place. Getting on his knees to speak into your ear softly.

"You better take a breath instead of trying to run away, honey. I thought you were smarter... hm?" He laughs mocking your scared face, you refuse to open your eyes and mouth making him stop laughing in annoyance.

Jimin sighs taking your face in his hands so roughly that they will surely leave a purple mark on your skin. He was still dressed, I was hoping I could humiliate you more and then fuck your mouth until you suffocate while his hyung explains everything to you. How it all started, his obsession, his plan, they had planned everything so perfect that it was terrifying, everything monopolized on one board.

Soon as soon as possible you will just be a cute housewife and you will forget your life before that day. Not for nothing did they have a closet full of cheerful and homely outfits ready for you, they wanted to destroy you and then put you back together just to serve them.

You would be his wife, of everyone.

"Come on, little bitch..." Jimin started, reaching over to kiss you on the lips even though you refused to do so. You really no longer had a vote or a word of objection in his plans. "Open your eyes darling, you don't want a stray bullet to land in your mother's skull, do you?" He threatened making you obey even more scared than before.

"P-please don't hurt my mother!" You sob, clasping your tied hands in supplication.

"Oh, we won't.... yet." He whispered kissing your lips one last time before imposing himself on your kneeling body. Her cock came out of her pants, stroked a few times before guiding it to your lips. Your stomach contracted, and you pulled your face away as far as you could before Hoseok held you by the hair tightly pulling you close again. "Take it, baby. Everything will be fine if you just obey."

"I hate them, they disgust me" You whisper before Jin forced you to open your mouth making you take it, you fight for a few seconds but her hips are already moving making you choke and gasp. His moans are so loud they make you squirm but his hands hold your head close to him.

"I told you you'll take a breath, but you're a dumb whore." His breath is hitting your neck directly, your skin crawling trying to distract you from anything other than Jimin's cock in your throat causing you to gag and vomit. "I bet you're wondering why, what did you do, and nothing really. Or if Yoongi!"

You do not look at your boyfriend before, you only focus on Jin who smiles, caressing your body with his hands, almost exceeding your limits. However, what did it matter if he did it, there was nothing you could do for yourself.

"You were only here, I think we all loved you from the first moment we saw you. We spent many nights wondering what was special about you, many of us had dated women before but you... You were so different, you had something that attracted us and it made us go crazy. " His hands squeezed your breasts causing you to gasp on Jimin's cock who moaned with pleasure, continuing his steady and hard rhythm. "Taehyung got involved in the matter. "

Jimin smirked when your eyes went up to him, your eyes showing how angry and helpless you felt. And it was exquisite.

"I bet you didn't know about your beloved boyfriend's background,locked up in a rehab center for alcoholics for two years. Three years taking therapy for his depression after the tragic death of his parents, quite strong actually." His words had such a strong past but from his mouth they came out as if it were not so important. Something common for him. "I'm surprised he loved you so much and didn't tell you."

You cried unable to turn your face to look at him, deep down you wanted to put Yoongi aside and not hate him for this. But it seemed almost impossible when he was there, doing nothing, so calm that it was unreal that he had ever looked at you directly and declared his love to you over and over again. For months.

"He really was fine for a while until we decided to make him fall again, one drink after another... First trust him, then question their relationship and finally make them argue." A laugh left his lips, it was almost uncomfortable that he was the only one doing it. Everyone else was so quiet just watching. "But I can't give myself all the credit, let me introduce ourselves well, my dear."

Jimin walked away from you letting you breathe again, you had almost forgotten that he had been doing that act against you. Your tied hands help you hold off the ground by not being able to breathe properly, you feel so weak that you are about to pass out but you refuse to look weak in front of them.

"Kim Seokjin, son of the best chefs in the country and heir owner of thousands of five-star restaurants, inside and outside the country." His body crouched down, making an extremely long bow. Namjoon stood next to him, with the same smile from the day he met you. "Kim Namjoon, the only and adored son of the best lawyers and mayoral candidates, future presidents if occasion permits." There was a strange tone behind his voice, with a knowing wink. "I thought you can guess what Hoseok's parents do, but I'll tell you just in case. Great psychiatrists recognized for their countless achievements outside and within the country, having a tradition from generation to generation, capable of manipulating even the cleverest mind like yours."

Hosoek smiled at you, but this time his smile showed malice and pride. All that time you were surrounded by people who wielded a certain power and influence, oblivious to the fact that they could ever use it against you.

"Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung... Maybe you heard about their surnames on the news two years ago? Families specialized in medicine, their knowledge dazzles science and biology. Before allies and now both surnames are enemies competing for the market, but who would say that their children would meet secretly and use their same knowledge to retain a precise treasure." His hand stroked your hair causing you to recoil angrily, with a grimace of disgust and resignation. "Well... Finally Jungkook, son of the best technology creators in the country. Capable of creating anything, millionaires obviously, like everyone. Faithful lovers and devoted to he son, giving him everything he wants. " He stopped for a moment and then brought his hand to your ear taking out one of your earrings, you looked at him confused before he opened it showing a tiny device that lit up. "Even creating a more than wonderful device, a tracker of the smallest size."

You opened your mouth completely petrified, looking at each and every one of them. Most of them had a firm and conceited posture, but your eyes only looked at him.

"Were you in on this?" You ask by moving your body slightly, Yoongi only remains silent, avoiding looking at you at all costs, even if it is out of mercy you demand a simple word. "Speak! Tell me! Tell me!" You scream completely out of control, letting out all your frustration and anger with him, just him. It's all his fault. "Tell me now! To finally be able to completely hate them all... Please tell me, I just want to stop inventing and fooling my head trying to justify why you are standing there doing nothing for me" You sob almost exhausted, " Without helping me, when before you said you love me."

His eyes meet yours a few seconds before Jungkook chimed in, completely certain that you were trying to play your manipulation cards to get rid of them. Funny, they had done the same to catch you, their hyung could sometimes be so... credulous. That it was ironic that she was older than him.

"Good enough talk for today." He demanded, causing you to hide your head again in fear. You were so scared, even with the pain in your cheek and jaw from being forced by Jimin, you would never give up on them.

Your mouth felt dry, you couldn't remember the last time you drank water alone. As if they could read your thoughts, Taehyung appeared with a tray with a glass of water and a purple pill.

"Take that away from me." You scream when he tries to put the pill in your mouth, backing up as far as your bound legs will allow.

He sighs bored, as if he doesn't have the patience to deal with it, "If you want water you'll have to do this."

"What is it?" You ask almost breathless from the lack of water in your body, he smiles before bringing the pill to his face to look at it rolling it on his finger.

"Hm... Vitamins." Respond after hesitating. "Everything you need in one compact little pill. It was an invention by Jimin and me, we were hoping you would be the first to try it."

A few seconds ago you remember hearing about the reputations of both families, they were specialists who probably passed that knowledge on to their children. If they knew what they were doing with them, they would be shocked. Your reasoning tells you no, to throw it away and try to run away but your head and body can't take it anymore, they demand water and a rest.

"I-it's okay." You accept, removing the pill and the glass of water from the tray angrily. You put the pill in first, then the water so hard your mouth hurts from the force.

You return the glass silently, eyeing him suspiciously before sitting back down and walking a few inches away. You wait for everyone to do something, but they stay so still as dolls that it scares you, everything about them and their attitudes was creepy.

I wish you had noticed earlier.

And now you feel it, it was not pain, nor anxiety. I was just calm, the noises seem to decrease and your vision does not blur but you feel so relaxed that you do not seem to be affected by any drugs. You could feel it all, but you didn't care.

It was relaxing but you weren't far this time, you remember the previous scenes. When you ate the food they gave you, it was similar but as if it had been modified so that you can remain docile and obedient, but at the same time you know what they are doing.

Your body falls on the bed, you don't even try to get up. Your brain isn't thinking about that, it just gets distracted by the decorations around it, but it clearly perceives one of them nearby. Namjoon is behind your body lying face down, half is on the bed and your legs are still kneeling on the floor. You feel his kisses so desperate on your neck, his hands touching your breasts and stomach trying to lower himself further, anxious not to wait to fuck you as he always wanted and should have been.

You do not fight when his legs open yours with force and speed, you just stand still, thinking with your head glued to the soft sheets of the bed, deep down you can slightly feel your desire to push him and push him away furiously, you want to do it but not you do. You feel so confused that you sob into the sheets in released frustration.

"I thought I heard from you, that her wouldn't refuse anything with his stupid pill." Jin whispers, disgusted seeing you struggle with yourself in search of reason.

"I don't see her deny it." Jimin retorts, crossing his arms with a small victorious smile.

Yoongi stands aside, not wanting to accept this but likewise, like you, does nothing to avoid it while Namjoon sinks deep inside you causing you to writhe overwhelmed and let out a groan of pain, your mouth opens to complain and probably ask him to stop, but he instantly closes again only releasing more gasps and squeals.

They spend minutes with all eyes on you, taking the cock of her friend who abuses your sore pussy from overstimulation, this time you are crying and begging for mercy to stop. Even in your unconsciousness you continue to feel all the pain and also the pleasure that is now almost non-existent.

"S-stop!" You cry between gasps of exhaustion, your hands had been released by Jungkook seconds ago so that you can hold on properly. However, you only use them to try to ward off Namjoon who is holding you against the bed by slamming his body against yours with obscene noises. The bed squirms like you, colliding with the wall in sync.

"A little more baby... Just a little more... And I'll fill you with my cum, so fucking tight. You like that, hm?" Her breath very close to your cheek makes you react, you squeeze your eyes almost suffering from your next inevitable orgasm. You scream making everyone watch you fascinated by how your face contracts with pleasure and pain, you try to walk away when the moment of ecstasy recedes, but he continues to fuck you bareback hard, selfishly chasing the release of him against you.

You spent hours repeating the same routine, sometimes sometimes even more hours than you can remember or count.. Your body was completely covered with bruises and marks not only made by them manually, you had discovered in the worst way that Hoseok had a great fetish to make small cuts to any animal or person that had skin and that glistening blood came out of those wounds, red as hell and as sweet as ambrosia.

A delicacy, truly a true delicacy blessed by God.

Jin could not stop laughing at your overwhelmed face, sometimes he would sit next to you while your body was fucked uncontrollably, watching your face move on the sheets with the constant and hard movements of his friends.

"Do you enjoy it, you dirty bitch?" You knew he was making fun of it, not only because it denigrated your dignity, but also because you couldn't answer correctly and the only thing that moved was your head up and down from the thrusts. As if you were affirming his disgusting words. "You like it right?" And again. "I bet you will enjoy it every day from now on, do you want to marry us, little bitch? Be ours forever, that we fuck you every damn day like that, that we also fill you up that you would get pregnant, you would have our children , and you would gladly. Do you accept _______?"

You did not want to know where he managed to get your last name, nor your full name and less because he thought that after the effect of whatever they had given you, you would really accept being his damned wife.

But he just stands there, watching Jungkook abuse his new power against you and taunt him.

I just wanted to wait for everyone to leave, so I could hug you, heal you, and ask for forgiveness.

He couldn't save you if he was chained to the basement like they threatened to do. He was afraid of his own friends, who looked at him madly when hours before he thought of withdrawing from the plan, Hoseok as charismatic as he always claimed to be able to cut his neck so easily if I took you away from them.

Now, they were doomeds.

The painting lost its color once more.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Six

Since this is a horror/ supernatural story, I’d hoped I’d have it finished before the end of October. In fact, I’d hoped to have it finished well before that because I had another horror-type thing that I was also supposed to get finished before the end of October. And now I have a few other ideas that aren’t horror-driven that I want to get done because... Yeah, you know. Life.

Anyway, if you’d like to get caught up on this story, you can find the previous sections here: 

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word count: 2,392

Content advisory: Graphic sexual content, dub-con, possibly disturbing moral/ religious themes

For several days, the dour mood in the house persisted, although the children did start to brighten up a bit. Things made a sudden shift, however, when the Reverend, who continued to stay at home, returned from a meeting. He was smiling and some of the color had returned to his face, and as he entered the house, he immediately called the children to him. I still felt that he was cross with me from the incident at dinner and so I stayed back, watching them from the drawing room. 

“Did you get good news, Papa?” Sophia inquired. 

“Very good news. At least, the best news I could hope for. And I want to apologize that I haven’t been myself with you lately. I hope you know that I always love you, even if my mood is low.”

I glanced in his direction, faintly hoping that he might indicate that I was included in his apology but his attention was entirely given to his children. He didn’t go into any detail about the nature of his news but he did tell them that they would finally be able to properly bury their mother and to “say their goodbyes”. Considering that he had been rather cold to me since that night in the dining room, I was a little surprised and perhaps a little hurt to hear him use my exact words as if they were now a good thing. 

The children returned to me a few minutes later, seeming more content. I suspected that this was not so much because of the news but because their father seemed like himself again. I tried to reflect their good mood back at them as I continued our French lesson, even though I felt like I had been left out. 

To my surprise, Reverend Devitt stayed in the doorway, watching us with a curious expression. Perhaps he wanted to see if I was doing an adequate job. I definitely felt as if he were judging my performance and I found myself quite nervous. Nevertheless, I worked my way through everything I had planned to cover before I released them for their afternoon tea. Their father hung by the door after they’d left, watching me speculatively. 

“May I help you sir?” I asked meekly. 

“Will you be taking tea with us?”

“I would be happy to.”

I had been mostly taking my meals by myself in the last several days, frightened I might anger him more or that my very presence would be aggravating. He had given no acknowledgment that he even noticed, so it was very gratifying to know that I was being invited back into the fold. 

He stepped inside the room and offered me his hand, which I gladly took, blushing a little at the unexpected contact. He continued to hold it after I rose and he made no move to leave. 

“After an investigation,” he began, “the authorities determined that there was no evidence to proceed with a full inquiry into my wife’s death. So there is no imminent disaster and no shame that will be visited on me or my family.”

“I’m glad to hear it, sir. I have prayed for you.”

I shivered a little, remembering who else I had asked for help and how I had agreed to pay him. 

The Reverend bent his head and lightly touched his lips to my fingers. 

“I don’t know why, but I feel that somehow your presence and your prayers are somehow responsible. I shared the story of my most terrible memories with you and for the first time, some of the burden of carrying them has been lifted from me.”

“You’re too kind, sir.”

“Feargal, Helen,” he reminded me softly. “Call me Feargal.”

He turned my hand over and kissed my wrist and palm, lips as soft as dew, and I felt the sensation reverberate throughout my body. When he raised his head, the look in his blue eyes was like nothing I had ever seen before, slightly playful and at the same time a bit dangerous. I felt as though he were searching for something inside me, but I could not fathom what it was. Gradually, his expression changed to a gentle smile as he lowered and released my hand, leaving me to wonder what had just passed between us, or if I had been imagining things. 

*

The funeral for the late Mrs. Devitt was organized for the following week. A lay minister was brought in from the city to conduct the service so that the Reverend would be able to sit with his children. The family asked that I attend and I agreed, although my secret feelings towards the head of the house made me feel awkward about it. I didn’t like to admit it, but in my heart I hoped that finally being able to say goodbye to his wife might open my employer to the possibility of someone new. 

Many times, I replayed the moment his lips had touched my hand and the look in his eyes afterward. He was on the road during the intervening days and by the time he returned, I had worked myself into a state. I was barely able to look at him, afraid that my face would betray the entirely inappropriate thoughts I was having. At the same time, I longed to know if he was looking at me and, if so, in what way. 

The day of the funeral was the first when autumn’s chill could be felt cutting through the warmth of the late summer. We walked to the church together- The Reverend, the children, Kate and me. I had been a little disappointed when I realized Kate was coming too since it diminished the pride I felt at being asked to join. Of course, she had known Mrs. Devitt and I certainly didn’t object to her pleasant company, but I felt less special as a result. 

A few women from the town were in attendance, ones I assumed had tried to befriend Sarah Devitt when she first arrived. No one, not even the Reverend, knew how to contact her family and so they had no presence that day. The service was simple and warm, in keeping with what I had seen of the Reverend, if not what I had heard of the woman we were mourning. 

I was  a little surprised that neither of the children cried, but it seemed likely that their mother had been dead in their minds since the night she disappeared. Both of them looked forlorn and Sophia’s face was a mask of anxiety that seemed inappropriate to her tender age. My heart ached for her, knowing too well the pain of losing a mother, of feeling the need to behave like a young woman while still being very much a child. 

We returned home and the visiting reverend joined us for an early supper. He and Reverend Devitt immediately fell deep into conversation and I allowed myself to look at him from under my eyelashes, marvelling at how very handsome he was and at the serenity of his clear eyes now that the shadow had passed from them. I had to force myself to take the children upstairs and put them to bed because I would have happily sat there all night, watching him in silence. 

“Would you like me to read you anything in particular?” I asked the children as they settled in bed. 

They glanced at each other and shook their heads simultaneously and yet I could tell there was something they wanted to say. 

“You both did very well today,” I commended them. “I was inconsolable at my mother’s funeral.”

“Miss Miles,” Sophia began crisply, “my brother and I have something we want to know. Can you help us?”

“I will try my best.”

“Is it true that unbaptized babies go to Hell?”

I stared back, aghast at how her cool tone never wavered. It was like she had asked me why apples came in different colors. 

“Well,” I stammered, not knowing what to say or why they wanted to know and remembering all too clearly what had happened the last time I had tried to give advice on a matter of death and religion, “that is what we are told. Baptism absolves us of Original Sin and therefore…” I struggled to come up with something that made things seem less bleak. “These matters are really in God’s hands. We know what He has taught us but ultimately all of these decisions are his to make.”

“But He has told us that unbaptized souls are always lost, no matter what the circumstances,” Sophia persisted. 

“That is so,” I answered quietly. 

“What if the baby hasn’t been born yet?” William chimed in. 

Again, I was astounded at how easily these questions came from them. William sounded a little more emotional than his sister but not by much. 

“I don’t know that there is anything in the Bible about that.”

“But aren’t there many babies who are stillborn?” Sophia, cooler and less affected than ever, took over the questioning again. 

“There are. But the Bible says that man is born in a state of sin. So I think the child would have to be born and alive.”

I could tell that my argument was unconvincing and their expressions became worried. 

“Wait! The Bible also tells us that life comes in breath, so in order to be considered fully alive, the baby would have to have taken at least one breath.”

The two of them immediately looked relieved and Sophia only gave a little smile. 

“Why did you want to know about such things?”

“We were just thinking about all of the unborn children when we were at the funeral,” Sophia explained. “We didn’t like to imagine them all going to Hell.”

I smiled to know that I had relieved their minds on that score and yet I knew in my heart that she was lying. I felt hurt by the lack of trust and wondered what could be so shocking that they felt they could not share it with me but so pressing that they had been compelled to ask their unsettling questions. 

Back in my room, I continued to ruminate over the meaning of what had just happened and wondered if I should tell their father as I dressed for bed. Within hours, I had found myself overwhelmed with sympathy for the vulnerability of my two charges and frightened by their almost inhuman coldness. 

I knelt at the side of my bed and asked God for His guidance. As I prayed, however, I became distracted by an acrid scent, smoke and seawater, filling the room. I tried to tell myself that I had left the window open and that the smell was coming from outside but it was useless. I could feel the presence in the room with me. I sensed his dark form circling the room and felt the weight of his body on the bed before me before his talons ran down the side of my face. I desperately wanted to keep my eyes closed in the hopes that he would simply leave but finally I had to see for myself and confirm what I already knew. 

Balor leaned his head down, continuing to cradle my face in his hand. He regarded me with an expression of perverse delight, his pale eyes almost luminous. 

“You see how I protect what’s mine,” he hissed. 

I nodded a little, frightened to find out what I had to bargain for now. 

He pressed the knuckle of his thumb under my chin, forcing me to stare back at him. 

“But that wasn’t all you wanted.” He gave a knowing smirk. “Say it.”

“I just…” I trembled at the voracious look on his face. “I only wish that he loved me.”

“Then pray,” he snarled. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He unfolded his crouched body, easing his legs off the bed on either side of me and pushing my head against his thigh, close to his erect member. 

“Pray.”

He guided my mouth over the swollen head and down his shaft, rocking back and forth and giving quiet yet lascivious moans. I waited for that first painful thrust into the back of my throat but this time he pulled me off him and dragged me onto the bed by my hair. I landed on my stomach and felt him pounce on me, gripping my hips and lifting them from the bed, which caused my nightdress to fall forward. 

Within a second, he pushed inside me, the shock and the burn of being stretched out almost making me faint. If he noticed this, he gave no sign, pounding away at a frantic pace, claws dug into my flesh to keep me somewhat steady. Gradually, he slid one hand around to the front, pressing his fingers against that point near the top of my opening, the one that had made me fall apart for him before. And, once again, the pleasure obliterated every other feeling I had in me. Wrong though it was, I wanted him to continue like this forever and at the same time, I wanted to rush towards the peak I knew was coming. 

He seemed to prolong the act before finally pressing me over the edge, my body spasming around him until I felt the hot, thick liquid he released inside me. His arms wrapped tight around my chest and he used his weight and strength to press me flat against the bed. He continued to thrust slowly, bestial growls escaping him until he finally stilled. I felt his breath heavy on my neck, and the movement of his rippling muscles as he too began to relax. 

When I came to, I was on my back, under the covers, as if nothing had happened. I could feel every scratch and welt he had left on my body but when I examined my skin, there were no external marks. I tried to sleep again but lay awake, terrified of what might be happening to me and trying to decide if it was worse that I had entered into some kind of pact with a demon or if I had gone mad and these fantasies were just the dark contents of my mind. 

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 10 - In Which Jack Hosts A Fashion Show

Jack is finally ready for his first runway show, after months of work and agonizing over every small detail and making sure he keeps up appearances as a flighty party boy with enough money that he doesn't need to have talent or ambition.

But he's honestly quite proud of how everything has turned out. He's tailored the runway fashions for the trendy, upscale gallery that's hosting the show, of course, so everything is very modern and very stark. There are a lot of geometric shapes, structured collars, plunging triangular necklines and sideslits, things like that. Lots of metallic black fabrics.

It's all very cyberpunk dystopia - but chic. Because the upper echelons of society will commodify and romanticize everything, including the surveillance state.

It does appear to be a successful strategy, however. Mary has been taking pictures of his work throughout the process. Pictures that are framed to hint, to tantalize, but not to actually reveal anything. And there's been significant hype building around the show. Some of the backstage photos from the runway rehearsal have even appeared in the society sections of various newspapers. Which nobody really reads anymore, but Jack's Instagram account has simultaneously blown up, so that's probably a better indication that he's on the right track with this designer nonsense.

And he's had no trouble filling seats at the show itself. Since it's all rich assholes in attendance, they'd never do anything so gauche as to charge admission, but there's an understanding that everyone who attends the event will provide a hefty (and tax deductible, after some creative accounting) donation to both the art gallery and Jack's little design company. And Kaylen has used her extensive network of snooty art acquaintances to make sure there are plenty of critics in the audience, which should help get his name out there in the fashion world so he can start broadening their field of influence.

So the last thing that remains to be done is to personally invite the Councilor to the show. Not only because Jack is trying to develop a deeper friendship with him (and thereby cement his influence over any and all planning decisions) but also because Max wants to form another sort of relationship with Councilor Featherstone. Ie. she wants one of her girls to start “dating” the esteemed Councilor and whispering sweet nothings about their competitors into his ear instead of pillow talk. Which is also why Jack's throwing an after party at his house where the invitees can mingle with the models, get to know them a little better.

Jack had initially been rather uncomfortable with this plan. Mostly because he doesn't like people in his house messing up his things. But also because this feels just slightly skeevy in a way he hasn't been before. He's a con and a killer and a dealer, but he's not a pimp.

But when he'd talked to the girls about this plan, they'd seemed surprised at his reservations. One girl - Jackie – had even asked if the Councilor was, quote, wicked and seemed disappointed when Jack told her he had the sexual charisma of a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. And Jack supposes it's their job, so they know what they're getting themselves into.

So he finds himself at the office building downtown (a pricey piece of real estate if Jack's ever seen one) to personally extend the glossy black invitation to both fashion show and after party to Councilor Featherstone. Who apparently has not yet grasped e-vites as a concept. And anyway, it's the personal touch that leaves a lasting impression.

And Charles has elected to accompany Jack, for whatever reason. He seems familiar with desk security and the building layout at least. Which is, perhaps, suspicious. As are the wary glances Councilor Featherstone's second in command – a man who's doing much what Max wants them to do in terms of filtering exactly what proposals actually reach the Councilor's desk, although his criteria for acceptance is more in line with being rich and titled and not a dirty foreigner - keeps giving Charles through Featherstone's glass door.

Charles's self satisfied smirk is not particularly encouraging either.

But he'd rather have any potential adversaries cowed as apposed to actively antagonistic. And Counselor Featherstone is more than happy to receive an invitation to his good friend Jack's debut fashion show. With front row seats to ensure that he gets a good look at all the models as they parade past on the catwalk. And Max's second sitting next to him - because Featherstone doesn't seem like the sort to approach a woman of his own volition and they'll need some indication of who to throw at him later tonight.

Jack's stupid fashion show is giving Anne a bitch of a headache. He's running around backstage in a fucking tizzy, because someone's makeup isn't quite right or they're wearing the wrong style of jewelry or a dozen other fucking things. And Anne's supposed to be coordinating this mess – as if that's fucking possible.

At least she's good at glaring and rude hand gestures. That appears to be all that's required to get the DJs – some poor fucks Max has by the balls – to get their shit set up and now there's some pumping electronic shit going as all the rich fucks mingle and drink cocktails, waiting for the show to start.

Fortunately, Eme'd been the one to recommend the caterers and other than pointing towards the kitchen and telling them when the show starts, she hasn't had to deal with them. And Mary's running around taking pictures of all the models and dresses and shit but she spares Anne a quick smile whenever they cross paths. So it could be worse.

And then Anne's pressed into lining up all the models in order and cuing when they're supposed to go out, so she's too busy to hear Jack's little speech at the start of the show. But by the polite applause he gets, it's a pretty good one – always been silver tongued, Jack has, and that ain't changed any with this new venture.

And it turns out he's pretty good at the whole designer thing too, which had been a surprise. Anne doesn't think much of the outfits – completely impracticable and all ugly weird dresses - but all these posh idiots are eating this shit up, if you take into account the fact that rich people excitement is a lot less loud than normal people excitement. The after party is sure to loosen them up, at least.

Jack slumps against the wall, absolutely exhausted. The fashion show had gone well, with several of the critics and many of the various high society invitees coming up to congratulate him afterwards. He's the darling of the upper crust for a night.

And in order to cement that for the future, he's in the process of throwing the mother of all parties – champagne, blow, stupid finger foods with gold leaf on them. The sort of club music that keeps coked up partiers on the dancefloor all night. And it's all getting to be a bit much.

Anne and Mary have already disappeared upstairs to bed, and Jack dearly wishes he could join them. Or at least meander in their general direction – he doubts they want him in their bed. Particularly because they're probably not even attempting to sleep what with all the noise downstairs.

And Jack doesn't really feel like laying awake for hours in his empty bed while Anne and Mary fuck down the hall, even if he wasn't bound by his persona to stay until the party ended or the sun rose. And it's starting to look like sunup will be the earlier of the two conditions, so it's just as well he's a jobless layabout who can sleep all day tomorrow.

At least Counselor Featherstone looks to be having fun with Idelle, all tucked into a sort of quiet corner with her and staring shamelessly at her tits. Which are quite noticeable in the dress she's wearing, to be fair. But Jack doesn't particularly want to spend his night thinking about that either.

So he turns on his heel and weaves through the crowd until he's reached the French doors leading to the little patio out back. He needs a minute – just one minute – of quiet and calm. Just a minute to catch his breath before he heads back into the heaving throng.

He walks out to the edge of the lawn and lets out a long sigh, head tipped towards the heavens.

“Get sick of the party, Jack?”

Charles emerges from the dark, only the glowing cherry of his cigar lighting his face, making his eyes gleam in a way that would be terrifying if Jack didn't know him so well.

But he does know Charles, so he just turns toward him, slumps against him in exhaustion. “I'll admit, it's a little harder to make it through these things without enough blow to keep an entire 80's office building supplied.”

Charles grins. “Or you're just getting old.”

“And what does that say about you, Chaz?” Jack leans back to look him in the eye. “You're the one out here in the dark all by yourself. Maybe you're the one getting too old for this shit.”

Charles eyes the house and all the guests making a disgusting mess all over Jack's fancy furniture. It's unbelievable, and he's spent his whole life, minus the last few months, living on the streets or in derelict drug dens.

“Don't know that I was ever young enough for this particular shit. Want to pretend to be desperate for a fuck and go hide upstairs?”

Jack considers it for a long moment, torn between responsibility to Max and his desire to escape the party. But fear of Max wins out – she can make is life awfully difficult. And that's without Anne giving him unimpressed looks on her behalf.

“Want to pretend to make out on the dancefloor instead?”

Charles grins. “Ok, but don't get pissy at me for grabbing your ass.” And he proceeds to steer Jack into the house and out into the middle of the dancefloor by doing just that, to the cheers and wolf whistles of everyone close enough to understand what he's doing.

Which is a fair number, because Charles is not exactly known for being subtle. And then he sticks his tongue down Jack's throat.

“I hope you know this means I'm spending tomorrow braiding your hair in retaliation,” Jack growls at him, when he's finally let up for air. “And I will give you pigtails.”

Charles just laughs, so apparently it's not a enough of a threat. Jack will find something truly menacing at some point. He swears.

[jenomark]

Secrets- Part 1

○Pairing: Office!Mark x Reader (Female) x Jungwoo ○Other Members/ Characters: brief mention of a character named Doyoung. ○Genre: smut  ○Warnings: no smut in part 1 ○Word count: 6,007

→Summary: Who says office workers can’t have a little fun? There’s a secret sex party that your whole office can’t stop talking about. At first, you’re not sure if you’re someone that could have sex in front of strangers, but there is something that keeps drawing you in. Trying to face your fears, you get dressed up in your prettiest dress and attend the masquerade ball without fully committing, telling yourself that you can just bail if you can’t do it. When you arrive, a mystery man takes your hand, and pulls you deep into a world you never dreamed you could be a part of.

→Notes:

An anon requested a Jungwoo, Reader, Mark threesome & this is the result of that. 

This was only meant to a one shot, but it was so long that I had to divide it into three parts.

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Friday

  You’d never heard of anything like it. There was something naive about how you perceived the world, your wide-eyed stare, and your metaphorical pearls clutched in your good-girl fists. You liked to think you were beyond being a prude since you kissed Kim Doyoung at your middle school’s playground, your tongue jammed halfway down his throat, but there was much to the world you still didn’t know about. You had liked the way he made you feel, a bit like you were on top of the world. It was the last time you had taken control like that, the last time you had felt any passion. Since then, you’d entered relationship after relationship, having sex with men quietly, all while letting them come and go as they pleased.

  Word traveled fast through the people at your office, their excitement dribbling down their chins, and into their coffee cups. It wasn’t a company affair, but it felt like everyone was attending. You thought a sex party was only for a certain type of person, and you definitely didn’t think Janet from accounting was one of those people. At first, your co-workers mentioning the word ‘sex’ so casually in a workplace setting threw you off. Your cheeks grew red, and it took everything in you not to cover your face with a stack of papers. After trying to escape the talk for weeks, it followed you everywhere until you decided to give in. You were a sex positive person, and you could take a little of the heat.

    You cornered your office bestie one afternoon, and asked her what exactly the party was about, and how many people would be attending. She was a wife, a mother of newborn twins who sneaked off into the bathroom to breast pump when she could. You knew it was a long shot asking her, but she was also the nosiest person you knew. 

“How would I know?” she asked. “It does sound like a lot of fun. I’m kind of sad that I won’t be able to go. Do you think there is a kink for mothers who--actually, you know what, I don’t want to know.”

“It’s for single people?” you asked.

“It’s for anyone who likes and wants to fuck.”

  The word ‘fuck’ always made you wince; it felt harsh coming from peoples mouths, especially yours. You smoothed your pencil skirt and tried a different tactic.

“Do you think someone like me could attend?” you said, adding “hypothetically” at the last moment.

  At that, she laughed. She wasn’t pitying you, just wasn’t taking you seriously enough. When you didn’t smile, her mouth fell into a frown. She looked around her and leaned in so that no one could hear your conversation. Your work floor was full of like-minded people who eavesdropped, and with the latest news, everyone was trying to find out who was attending the party. You didn’t love the thought of Monday arriving, and finding out which of your co-workers liked to be spanked. 

“Do you think you could handle something like that?” she asked. “You don’t seem the type.”

  You sat on the edge of a desk and tried to look like you were a relaxed person that wasn’t fazed by much. You pushed your hair to the side and stuck your chest out, but stopped when her mouth started to break out into a smile. There was a con to having a young face, and you were sure that was part of it.

“I’m sorry, “ she said. “I don’t want to offend you, babe, but this hardly seems like something you would do. Maybe I don’t know you that well. We all have our secrets.”

  You hunched over and looked all around the room. It was Friday, and people were gearing up for the weekend. You tried to imagine what everyone would look like in full Masquerade formal wear, the masks on their faces hiding their true selves. Everyone knew the masks didn’t hide much, but you thought the thrill was in pretending that it did.

“I’m not sure what happens at those things,” you said. “Does everyone meet up and decide who they want to be with? Do they date? Is it just sex and no dating at all?”

“Oh, you poor misguided child.”

“I’m not a child. Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m sorry, again,” she said. “Look, you can go and check it out. You don’t have to sleep with anyone if you don’t want to.”

“Won’t people be angry if I don’t participate?”

“Consent is important at things like that,” she said. “Ask Regina from sales. She’s been to a lot of sex parties. I think she met her boyfriend at one.”

  Your office bestie left you soon after to go home. You felt just as confused as before you talked to her, your mind pulling you in all different directions. You were very curious about the party, but in a way that you didn’t want to be involved, you just wanted to see how everything went down. Your thoughts made you feel aimless, so until you were dismissed, you walked around the office trying to overhear conversations you weren’t a part of. 

   “The girls don’t get to choose who they fuck,” someone said. “That is where the fun is.”

Another chimed in, “No, it’s the men who don’t. It’s ladies choice.” 

  You tilted so far into their cubicle that someone's calendar fell to the floor. Everyone looked at you, waiting for you to say something.  You acted like you were just shuffling through papers in your hand, oblivious to everything. Luckily, Mark, the copy boy, came by and grabbed your elbow, spinning you around.

“Hey!” he said, “How are you? I haven’t seen you all week.”

 Mark led you through a back hallway, his fingers still on your elbow. You liked being around Mark. He was fairly new to the office, but he brought an interesting vibe to the place. He was only a copy boy, but everyone adored him like he was the most important man on the floor. There was always a smile on his face, and he brought in pastries for people without asking. Word around the office was that everyone had a crush on him.

“I’m okay!” you said, matching his excitement.

“Happy for the weekend?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s nice to rest my hands. I’ve gotten so many paper cuts since I’ve been here.”

  Mark let go of your elbow and showed you his hands. They were small and veined, with a brush of light hair across the top. You smiled, your eyes practically lighting up as if he showed you a pot of gold. It wasn’t odd for you to have a little office crush every once in a while, but Mark made you feel like you were back on that playground again.

“Ouch,” you said. “You have to be careful.”

“I’m always too rough with my hands.”

  You looked down at the floor, the nerves getting to you. Mark bent over and tried to get you to look at him. When you locked eyes, he broke out into a smile.

“You’re still shy around me?” he asked. “That’s sweet.”

“I’m not-”

“-It’s okay,” he said. “I like it. Anyway, I hope you have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Okay, “ you said. “I’ll see you.”

  You watched Mark walk away, your eyes going straight to his firm ass. He turned back once to give you a little wave, which you returned lamely. When he was gone from view, you banged your head against the wall, keeping it there for a whole minute before you returned to your desk.

Saturday

  You knew the address. You knew the time. You knew how to get there by car. You knew what you would wear, what you wanted your makeup to look like. You knew all it took was a bit of courage, and maybe a dash of tequila.

   You stood in your apartment staring at The Dress. It hung on the back of your door on a hanger, it’s fabric nearly reaching the floor. You were meant to wear it on a fancy date once, but the date had bailed on you last minute. The dress had sat in your closet ever since, just begging to be let out and loved. You tried it on only once, in the store, the sales clerk helping you into it. It was burgundy and made of imitation silk, with a plunging neckline, cinched in waist, and a long slit up the right leg. It was much sexier of a garment than you would usually wear, but it made you feel expensive.

  You planned on going to the party, or rather, the ball, as it was called. You weren’t going to participate, just walk in and see what everything was about. You knew that if you weren’t comfortable, you could easily reverse your decision and everyone there would respect you. Still, even with the safety net in place, you felt fear clawing up your spine like a cold hand.

   You went into your kitchen and took another shot. It didn’t go down smoothly so you scrunched up your face. Before you could fully chicken out, you removed your clothes and bra, and slipped into the dress. Everything seemed to come together from there, your hair falling in loose waves around your shoulders, your makeup dramatic all the way down to the dark red lipstick. You didn’t want to look in the mirror and assess yourself in case you saw the little office girl staring back at you, so you left and caught a cab.

  When you arrived, you couldn’t stop staring up at the building. It loomed overhead like a palace, pretty gold pillars and stained glass windows as far as your eyes could see. There were people milling around, designer bags on their arms, masks on their faces, and their hair adorned with jewels. You couldn’t imagine your average office worker attending, let alone yourself. You looked down at your dress and suddenly felt out of place. You hugged yourself and walked towards the entrance, moving your legs forward like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time.

  “Name?”

  You stopped behind a line of people trying to get inside the ball. A big burly man stood at the doorway, with a tablet in his hand, and his fingers scanning down a list of names. You tried inching closer to hear what the people at the front were whispering to him, but you were too wobbly in your heels. A few people walked out of line looking dejected, which made you start to sweat. You weren’t aware there was a list to get inside, and you weren’t that great at handling rejection. You looked around you and thought about dipping out, but the line behind you was so long that any movement would make all eyes watch you. Very slowly, you moved to the front of the line, your heart sinking down to your asshole.

“Name?” 

  With one person left to go before the man asked you your name, you felt a hand around your wrist. Before you realized what was happening, you were whisked out of line and through the door. The hand attached to you belonged to a man in a black suit, but all you could see was the back of his head. The man at the door let both of you pass through without looking up from his tablet. You were brought into a dark entryway, and before you could get a better look at the man, you were left in total darkness.

“Oh, you’ve been picked.” a female voice said.

  A woman came walking out of the dark. She was wearing a tight, white dress and heels so high she towered over you. Like everyone else, there was a masquerade mask on her face, its edges decorated with white pearls and lace. Her red hair was scraped up into a neat bun that sat on top of her head. Her voice was higher than any you’ve ever heard before, which could have been annoying to some, but you found it oddly addicting. You felt too googly-eyed around her, too new and too young.

“Picked?” you asked. 

“Is this your first time?” she asked.

   A few women entered behind you. When they opened the door to the main hall, a light so brilliant illuminated everything. If you were that kind of person, you would have believed you were getting ready to walk into heaven, but the door shut as quickly as it had opened, and you were brought back into the dim room, back into the conversation with the mysterious woman.

“Yes.” you said.

  She sat down in a chair and crossed her legs. It was then that you realized you weren’t wearing the mask you brought, and that everyone could see who you were. You rummaged around in your bag and pulled your mask out. You had found a plastic one at a party store, the kind you decorate yourself. You ended up putting a few black feathers and sequins around it just to blend in, but it was clear that your mask looked like a child made it.

“I’m surprised,” she said. “Not a lot of virgins get picked their first time. Darling, don’t take offense to that. We call first timers virgins here. It’s no wonder someone snatched you up so quickly. You do look like a scared little baby.”

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to be here.”

“That’s what they all say,” she said. “Some of them don’t even make it through the second door.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you asked. “To coax virgins who want to run?”

  She laughed, her laugh like the cracking of glass. “Me? What makes you think I have the patience. I don’t work here. I’m just a surveyor. I like to watch the fun.”

 You looked back towards the first door and thought about leaving. No one had come through the door since the last group of girls. Everything was feeling too quiet, too still. You looked back at the woman and opened your mouth to speak, but closed it just as soon as you did.

“Go ahead,” she said. “What do you want to know? Better yet, what do you know?”

“My work,” you started. “They said it was a sex club, a sex party.”

“Office work?”

“Yes.”

“We get a lot of those types,” she said. “They’re lazy and don’t put in the work. A lot of them go through rooms acting like idiots who have never seen a tit in their lives. The thing about these kinds of..what did you call it? A sex party? Is that it always attracts the wrong people. “

“Am I the wrong person?”

“That’s not for me to judge,” she said. “You were picked before you even made it inside, so that tells me that someone thinks you’re the right person.”

  A loud bell interrupted your thought process. It rang three times before the woman raised her eyebrows and stood up. She went to the door and put her hands on a handle that looked like a stemmed rose. Before she opened it, she stopped and looked at you, giving your body a once-over.

“They smell fear,” she said. “It’s important to know that.”

  When she opened the door, you were gifted with the light again. She held it open for you and you walked on through, not daring to look behind you.

  The ballroom was gorgeous. At first glance, you felt blinded by the beauty in every corner. A giant marble staircase with lush red carpet running down it stood in the center, it’s steps leading both left and right as if guests were given a choice of which way they wanted to go. The floor you were standing on itself looked so delicate, as if it would crack as soon as you dug your heel into it. The room was set up like a party, with food and drink being served, and round tables everywhere for guests to sit. Music was playing softly, acting more like the soundtrack to the guests chatter. There were so many people mingling on the floor, their outfits perfectly pressed and masks perfectly crafted, that you felt overwhelmed. You looked around for the woman, but she had disappeared into the sea of people.

  “Drink?”

  A man with a tray came over and offered you a flute of champagne. You were getting ready to take it until a man sidled up to you and told you that it would be easier if you just sucked one down. You moved away from him, losing yourself in the black suits and ties, the ball gowns and their satin. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were going to do, but it seemed like the right move to make. You found yourself by a table of food, grabbed a little pig in the blanket and shoved it into your mouth. You chewed nervously, looking all around for a sign of what to do next.

  You still had no idea what would happen at the ball.  As far as you could see, it looked like any normal formal party, with people too rich for their own good talking out of their asses. There wasn’t any talk of sex, no table full of condoms, or people fucking in the middle of the floor, just a bunch of investment talk and showing off.

“You’re supposed to talk to people.”

  The redheaded woman came back. Her voice made you jump and drop your fifth pig in the blanket on the floor. You ignored it as it rolled underneath a table.

“I’m shy.” you said.

“You’re in the wrong place,” she said. “Come on, these people don’t bite, well, unless you want them too.  Aren’t you curious what person chose you?”

“I guess.”

  You tried to remember if you saw any part of his face,  but all you could remember was the back of his head and the way his hand felt: warm and familiar. Everything happened so fast that it was impossible to know who he was. With the masks, it was even more impossible.

“It’s not for everyone, darling.” she said.

  There was something about the way she said ‘Darling’ that made you feel angry. You didn’t want to be someone's first choice, someone's darling, someone's virgin. You could easily belong with these people, even with your shitty mask. 

“Alright, I see some fire behind those eyes,” she said. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to feel guilty if you want to back out. But by all means, go get yourself some sweet cock.”

  With that, she disappeared again. You thought about grabbing another pig in the blanket but thought better of it. You walked to the other end of the room, loving the way the slit on your thigh revealed your smooth leg. You could feel the burn on your skin from the eyes that watched you as you passed, mostly men’s eyes. The embarrassment about the mask washed away, and what was left felt like a steely determination to make the best of things. You scanned the room for your man, but everyone melted into one person.

“You’re beautiful.” a man said.

“Thanks.”

  When you didn’t pay him as much attention as he paid you, he gradually faded away. You kept your eyes on the crowds of people arriving and leaving, arms linked with arms, hands dipping underneath skirts. You didn’t know how long you had to listen to strange men telling you how pretty you were, but there was something about it that began to build onto your confidence. You straightened your posture a little and thought of yourself as the baddest bitch around. It was a little silly, but it really helped ease the nerves.

“Hi,” he said. “Can I stand here?”

  The timidness of the voice coming from your left startled you. You turned and thought you would find someone small, but the man beside you soared over you, his body seemingly going on for miles. He wore a dark blue suit, with a casual white t-shirt tucked into it, and no tie. His ash gray hair was curly and stuck out in all directions. He reminded you a little bit of a dog, which made you instantly feel comfortable.

“Yes,” you said. “I would love that.”

  You were sure he wasn’t your man because he was much too tall, and his hair wasn’t the same color, but that didn’t stop you from talking to him. In that moment, you desperately wanted it to be him. You could tell he felt the same way by the way he let his breath go as if he had been holding it in. He smiled and offered you a sip of his drink, which you accepted.  

“I’m nervous.” he said.

“Me too.”

“I’m a virgin,” he said. “Well, I’m not actually a virgin but…”

“It’s okay, “ you said. “By their standards, I am also a virgin.”

  There was a little bit of awkwardness in the air as you revealed what kind of people you were. You didn’t think you would meet anyone like yourself so early, but it was like the heavens were giving you a chance to interact.

“Do you know what happens at these things?” you asked.

  If he was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it.  Like a manual, he read out a list of rules that made no sense to you. He stated it so matter-of-fact that, after he was done, he looked at you like you would give him a treat.

“Wait,” you said. “The men choose?”

“The women can choose, too,” he said. “It’s whoever gets there first.”

“How does anyone else know who's been chosen?” you asked. “Is there some kind of name tag I was supposed to get?”

“No,” he said, wide-eyed. “Everyone here has been chosen. Well, some just watch.”

   The little bit of information he gave you was blowing your mind. You tried to make sense of it all, tried remembering the rules he told you, but everything felt fuzzy.

“So…,” you began. “Were you chosen?”

“I was.”

  You felt sad at the thought of someone else claiming him. You didn’t want to leave his side. There was something about his presence that made you want to be around him.

“A woman chose you?”

“A man,” he said. “I didn’t get to see his face, but he was shorter than me. He pulled me out of line and brought me inside. I didn’t get to say much to him before he disappeared.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“My name,” he said. “He said my name like he knew who I was.”

 It occurred to you to ask him what his name was. When he told you he was named Jungwoo, you told him your name back. He blushed when you told him you liked the way he said your name.

“We both have a mystery man and we don’t know who he is,” you said. “How do we find him?”

“We don’t. We wait.”

“We what?”

“Didn’t you read the rule book?” he asked.

You shook your head no. “Coming here was a spur of the moment thing.”

“That’s brave,” he said. “I’ve been talking myself out of it for weeks. I only came tonight because I lost a bet. Is this something you’ve been wanting to do?”

“Have sex with a random stranger? Not exactly.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.

“Sure.”

 Jungwoo leaned down closer to your ear. “I wish it were you.”

  Before you could respond, the lights went out and mood lighting was set. You looked up at the massive chandeliers and felt the way the excitement buzzed through the air. During this, Jungwoo’s hand reached out instinctively to hold yours. The music got a little louder, the drunkenness a little bit more apparent.  Jungwoo removed his hand from yours and watched you looking from face-to-face.

“We don’t have sex here, do we?”

“No. There are rooms.”

“Can everyone watch?”

“If they pay,” he said. “Typically it’s about 10 people a room, plus the people who put on the show. It’s all done voluntary, and with complete consent. “

“Are there private rooms?”

“Not here on the ground floor ,” Jungwoo said. “But people choose to go upstairs to the hotel rooms for the night.”

  The nerves were coming back. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were sweaty. You felt exposed in your own body, though you were wearing a mask to give your identity some dignity.

“You never have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Jungwoo said. 

“What do you want to do, Jungwoo?”

“I want to participate.”

“I think I do, too,” you said. “If you excuse me, I’m going to find my man.”

  Jungwoo didn’t say anything as you walked away from him. You felt like you glided across the floor, touching shoulders as you went, looking at every mask to find any details of the man who brought you inside. You thought about shouting for him over the noise, but you weren’t sure that would be taken well in a place so organized. Your other choice was to wait. You were deciding what to do when you saw Jungwoo being led somewhere by a woman without a mask. You didn’t have time to wonder where he was going when you felt a body press against yours. Instinctively, you tried turning around, but a hand around your wrist and the other on your waist stilled you.

“Don’t move,” a  deep voice whispered in your ear. “Do you want me?”

  You knew it was him. You didn’t have to look him in the face to know it was the same person who brought you inside. His body was so close to yours that you could feel all of him, the bulge in his pants against your ass, his heart racing against your back.  After you said yes, he snaked his hands down your thigh, his fingers pausing just an inch inside the slit of your dress. With the other hand, he unclasped your wrist and brought it up to your neck.

“I’ve been watching you.” he said.

“Isn’t that kind of creepy?”

  You didn’t care if people were watching you, but of course they were. His hand on your thigh made you feel so good that you struggled to keep your eyes open. You leaned your head back a little, and you let his hand grip your throat lightly. 

“Maybe.” he laughed.

“Why me?”

“First, it was the dress,” he said. “It doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”

  You felt his hand cup your pussy over your underwear. His fingers were feather light against the lace, your pussy lips practically quivering as he drew circles, tracing the pattern with his fingertips. He brought his other hand from your neck and slid it between your breasts. You both swayed in place, dancing to music that no one else could hear.

“And second?” you asked, your breath getting caught in your throat.

  His hand went up your throat again and grabbed your chin. He pulled your chin down so that you could see all of the people looking at you, all the men staring with envy in their eyes. 

“Look at how much they want you,” he said. “Look at how much you’re all mine.”

  His fingers went underneath your underwear. He swiped his hand against you to feel your wetness. His hand came up to show you how you glistened in the light.

“Am I yours?” he asked. “Tell me, and it all begins.”

  He let go of you and you could still feel his touch on your body. You rocked backwards, but were met with air.

“You’re mine.” you said.

  He moved a stray hair from your neck and kissed you. His lips were soft and wet, his kiss sweet. Before leaving, he whispered in your ear and told you someone would be along shortly to collect you.

  Waiting felt like an eternity. You hadn’t felt that excited in a long time, like you would explode from the anticipation alone. Being touched like that in front of all of those people felt thrilling. They knew how your face looked with fingers inside of your pussy, and hands at your throat. They knew how fast you would crumble, and they would pay to see it. Going along with it felt too crazy of a thing for you. People from your work were probably watching your every move, and soon they would see what you looked like spread eagle on whatever surface you would be fucked on.

   About twenty minutes later, a different woman than the one who collected Jungwoo came for you. She was taller than you by a good five inches, and her face was all business and all pleasure. You didn’t know what to say to her, so you just stayed quiet and followed her out through am unmarked door off to the side.

“You need to sign a few forms,” she said. “Nothing too scary, just for legal purposes. You understand?”

“Yes.”

  She brought you into a room that operated as an office. You sat in chair with a yellow light bringing out the worst tones in your skin. You could pick yourself apart in the office and the woman would be none-the-wiser.

“Sign on the dotted line and on the next page,” she said, handing you a clipboard. “You can read it, if you want, but it’s just a guide to understand that all participants safety is our main concern. When you’re done signing, I need to ask you about personal matters such as contraceptives and stuff like that. Do you consent?” 

  After you agreed and signed the papers, she went over a few more things. Hearing her talk was daunting. She was fast and sure, her words spilling out like she had spoken them a million times, but you were struggling to keep up.  

“All set,” she said. “The important thing is to have fun. If you’re not having fun, there is no point.”

“Okay.”

  She stood up and you followed. She opened the door and you walked through. She escorted you down a long hallway with funky colored carpet and brown walls. The sconces on the wall looked like they belonged to a cheap motel, which was a far cry from the main ballroom. At the end of the hallway, was another door, but this one had a key code.

“This is serious.” you whispered.

“Safety is important to us,” she said. “We want our participants and our surveyors to feel safe.  Nothing will be recorded for this purpose. Phones are taken away before they ever reach the room, which reminds me, give me your bag.”

  You handed over the small bag you brought and watched as she tucked it under her arm. When she saw your face, she assured you nothing would happen to your belongings.

“Beyond this point,” she said. “You can choose to keep the mask on, or not. Most people like it on for the slight anonymity, but some do get brave.”

“I want it off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

  You whipped the mask off and handed it to her before you could change your mind. You’re sure she was used to ridiculous displays of bravado, and judging by the look on her face, you were also sure she didn’t take you seriously.

“Are you ready?”

“You make it sound like I’m being thrown to the wolves.” you said, nervous laughter following behind.

“Well, Mark did choose you,” she said. “And that boy likes to play.”

“Mark?”

  The door swung open, revealing another long hallway with a bunch of rooms. Every room had a door with a number on it. The woman told you only participants can walk through those doors and that once they were all inside, the doors would lock for safety reasons.

“No one tries to get through,” she said. “But it’s an extra protection. This way, no one can just join in if they feel like it, or are too drunk to stop themselves. These rooms are only for surveyors.”

  Where there should have been walls, there was a floor to ceiling sheet of glass so that people could easily see everything going on inside the room.

“It’s like a cage.” you said.

“We were going to do a two-way mirror type of deal but we realized that people find it sexier if they can see the people watching them.” she said.

 The thought of people watching you have sex was finally sinking in. Even though you could opt out at any time, you felt like you were at the point of no return. You had felt him on you, felt his breath on your neck, and there wasn’t much that could tear you away.

“You’re in room four,” she said. “ Before you go in, I’m going to have to blind fold you.”

“What? Why?”

“Virgin rules.”

  She turned you around herself and tied a red sash around your head to cover your eyes. Not being able to see made you feel vulnerable. She told you to stand in place while she opened the door with her keys. She held your hand as she directed you inside, her voice making you feel more anxious as you moved inside.

“Stand right here.” she said.

  She pulled you to a spot and stopped you before you went too far. Standing there felt awkward, so you clasped your arms in front of you and tried to remain calm.

“Things will start shortly,” she said. “Any questions?”

“Am I the only one in this room?” you asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” she said. “Any other questions?”

“No.”

“Good. Remember to have fun, and use protection.”

  You heard the door shut. The silence in the room felt uncomfortable. You could hear yourself breathing too heavily. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. You thought about removing your blindfold, but you didn’t want to get in trouble. All you could think about were the stacks of papers you signed and what the repercussions were for breaking a rule. After what felt like another eternity, you heard movement. When the door opened, voices poured into the room, which made you feel scared. As soon as the door shut, the voices vanished. 

“Who’s there?” you asked.

  You could hear the footsteps walk across the room, taking their time. They weren’t going to you, but heading further away. You could hear whispering, but couldn’t make out the words. When you put your fingers to the blindfold to tear it off, a voice suggested that was a bad idea.

“Going too fast could ruin the whole thing,” he said. “I like to take my time.”

“It’s you.”

“Of course it’s me,” he said. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Are there people watching us?”

“They are, but they can’t hear us just yet.”

“Why can’t we hear them?”

“It’s the way things are,” he said. “They hear us, we don’t hear them. It’s just us in our little world.”

  You swallowed. It was so loud that you swore he could hear it. His footsteps moved towards you and your whole body clammed up. He stopped in front of you and skimmed his fingers down your cheek.

“You really shouldn’t be so shy around me.” he said.

  He reached up to untie the red sash around your eyes. It fell like ribbon to the floor, and you got to watch it land at your feet. You looked at his shoes, but couldn’t bring yourself to look up much further than that. He touched your chin and brought your gaze up to meet his.  When you looked into his eyes, the world shifted.

“Mark.” you whispered.

[hysteriium]

Karma’s a Bitch; {1}

// Deal With the Devil // 

Steady hands met with the flesh of a tense bicep. An arm you knew by now would never relax despite your genuine reassurances.

With one scarred, blind eye and the other distant, refusing to look at you, it was always difficult to tell if he was in the present moment; aware. Or, if the infamous man was miles away, thinking — perhaps about what he’d do to you now if you messed up.

Though, maybe that was your anxiety talking.

Michael definitely wasn’t the nicest patient, there had been plenty of incidents over the years. Fatal ones. Yet, much to doctor Sartain’s persistence, Michael remained in the facility. It wasn’t ethical, but hey, you needed to get paid and so you tried your best to please everyone. Do your job for your boss, Sartain, and take care of Michael, since you were the only nurse who he allowed near him.

You wouldn’t say Michael trusted you. You figured he was quite unacquainted with the notion, yet you knew that he at least tolerated you. Seeming as you hadn’t been slammed against the wall, your brains splattering and contrasting against the blinding whiteness that coated the entire facility, this was a clear fact. A morbid, gory masterpiece that would almost belong in a museum; its message loud and clear.

With a gentle hum, you wrapped the measuring instrument around his arm. It wasn’t a daily process, but one that had to be performed every so often. It was a strict regulation with patients, especially with precious Michael (as your boss would so kindly emphasise), to ensure each patient was fit and healthy.

As you sat across from him, your gentle humming signified your distance from present-tense, your mind flickering elsewhere — dangerous. As your movements went into automation, you were too dazed to notice Michael slowly moving his head towards you; expression vacant, with no evidence of a human being residing within the flesh. It was only after completing the small task of writing down Michael’s scores when you stopped. Michael’s comparatively larger hand had halted you, your pen falling to the ground in a series of taps. It was a firm grip; you could never envision the man being gentle. It was a hold that signified if you made it difficult, there’d be no hesitation in ending your pathetic, significantly weaker, life.

Steady heartbeats morphed into that of panic, a hammering stampede. Taking in the new bits of information, you looked down at the man sitting before you, his gaze spilling into your own with such intensity it was hard to keep your eyes from saccading away. It had the capacity to turn even the hardest men into stone, like that of the great gorgon, Medusa. A flame lay within those dead eyes, ones that harboured the burning desire to kill.

“M-Michael?” Your voice came out as a pained whimper, and if he hadn’t had any indication you were bat shit terrified before, (which you doubted), he sure as hell knew now.

He could smell fear from a mile away.

His grip tightened at the sound of your small voice, the pullback of his arm forcing you closer to him with your faces mere inches apart. The action forced your eyes shut, and you felt your face involuntarily scrunch up in fear as you waited for impending doom. The atmosphere was suffocating, your body hot and tingling with adrenaline as the laboured breathing of your former patient, and soon to be murderer, triumphed. Its flow tickled the base of your neck, strands of your hair softly swaying against his harsh respire.

When you mustered enough courage to look, with the seconds speedily turning into minutes, you opened one glassy eye, tears pricking at the corners and threatening to spill. You weren’t sure which was more horrifying; getting hurt — and perhaps murdered by Michael — or the absence of pain that virtually seemed impossible to associate with the infamous man.

Then, as unexpected as it was abrupt, his strong hand released you.

Curious beyond articulation as to what the fuck happened, you didn’t need to be assaulted twice to know when to scramble out of there. Speedily you exited. Shaking hands collected your equipment before locking his cell. With no interest to look behind you, into the small window his cell had, you failed to witness his gaze still upon you, remaining that way until you completely vanished from view.

But, although you couldn’t see it, you sure as hell felt it.

——————

It had been days, perhaps a couple of weeks, since the incident and you hadn’t been back to see Michael. Despite your bosses protests and his covert empty threats, he was unable to get you back to your regular routine. Treating regular, less murderous patients was now your daily experience, and to be honest, you were much happier.

Living was currently an attractive state of being to you, so you were trying your best to avoid anything that could potentially endanger that. With Michael being the angel of death, it was obvious you would avoid him at all costs.

As for Michael, ever since the incident, he had been attacking the new nurses sent to him (attacks that hadn’t resulted in deaths, yet), or remained as uncooperative as possible. You’d be on shift, minding your own business until the piercing shrieks and cries of Michael’s next victim filled your ears. After awhile it became routine, and you instantly knew where the source was. You’d often see nurses with bruisings on their body, arms, legs, cuts from where he dug in his nails — and most commonly, bruising around the neck. It was particularly heartbreaking, especially since you had been one of the lucky ones; to put up with Michael for such a long time and to be able to continue on your day without an incident was a luxury. You weren’t entirely sure why that was the case. Either way, it didn’t stop the injured nurses' filthy looks whenever another staff member was assaulted, as if you had something to do with it; as if you had some kind of hold over Michael.

No one could control Michael, he was his own person.

Perhaps the violence was his silent protest to get you to return, you weren’t sure and you didn’t want to know. What you did know, however, was that Michael’s poor behaviour only worked to exacerbate the doctor's desperate pleas to return to Michael. He didn’t want the state to get any ideas, and he wanted to keep Michael in his clutches for as long as he possibly could. It was his primary objective, as he had once so nicely conceptualised. Sartain, someone you’d describe as a borderline madman, was still convinced he’d get groundbreaking research from Michael.

Delusional.

You were in one of the equipment rooms, ready to attend to another patient when Sartain strode in, his long lab coat floating in behind him. He made his way to you in long strides, eyes hard and focused with determination, peering into your own like an owl on cocaine.

Without even hearing him speak, you knew what this was about.

“No—“

“Hear me out, (Y/n)!”

“I’m not doing it—“

“He’s attacked another one miss (L/n). They’re transporting him in a few days and I need to know this won’t end up in failure. I need you there.”

You froze, biting your lip in thought, the bitter, metallic taste of blood only seemed fitting as you crossed your arms, contemplating the pros and cons.

The doctor not receiving an answer, interpreted your silence as a small victory, choosing to elaborate.

“He’ll be incredibly secured, chained up and driven in one of our busses. Nothing will go wrong, I can assure you that.”

You definitely needed a chance to think about it. Were you really going to endanger the lives of others just for your own comfort? It was a difficult decision that needed careful thought.

“I’ll be raising your pay, and it’ll be the last time you get to see Michael.”

Nevermind.

“Resorted to bribing now, sir?” You finally spoke up, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He shot you a playful smile, “so I’ll take that as a yes?”

Releasing a sigh, you slowly nod your head, barely believing what you were agreeing too.

“Okay, yes. Only if you’re certain it’s safe.”

“Utterly, and completely.”

As his smirk widened, happy at his win, you couldn’t help but feel like you were making a deal with the devil. A deal you felt you’d totally, and wholey, regret.

If only you knew how right you were.

* 

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Hey guys! This is my first three-shot / miniseries? Idk what to call it lmao. But I hope you enjoy! I'm really happy with how some of it turned out, I hope my characterisation of Michael is somewhat realistic. I don't particularly believe the narrative that he's completely unfeeling and further, incapable of feeling. I certainly do think due to the environment he grew up in (in the sanitarium), he was unable to really express and develop said emotions. With the added mixture of Loomis, and his psychobabble (he really needs his licence revoked), I really don't think that helped him lmao and this obviously added to the myth of 'The Shape'. Although Michael's emotions would be hard to access and even draw out in the first place, I still think it's possible that he'd feel some sort of affections for someone? It'll be very hard though. I also believe if he were to start feeling things for someone, he'd definitely be very confused, and it would lead to a lot of emotional outbursts, particularly anger - rage even - because of how unfamiliar it is; also due to how anger and rage are so "normal" for lack of a better word, he'd try his hardest to regress/revert back to some sense of familiarity. Though like how it is for most, repression of emotions really doesn't work, and this would thereby manifest itself as intense bouts of possessiveness and jealousy. Idk that's just my opinion and my own interpretation, I could be really fucking wrong lmao but I guess that's the beauty of writing. Anyway, Jesus, I'm rambling, I'll be surprised if anyone even reads this lmao. Thank you for reading if you did, I love you and I hope you enjoy!

[nellie-elizabeth]

Outlander: Perpetual Adoration (5x05)

Honestly, this episode felt kind of disjointed to me. Several of the pieces were good, but the picture they made in the end was less than it should have been.

Cons:

I enjoyed, in theory, the flashbacks to Claire back in the twentieth century. We see a story of her losing a patient, Graham Menzies, because of an allergic reaction to penicillin. His death shakes her bad enough that she decides to go on a trip to London with Brianna, which leads to her crossing paths with Roger, and ultimately finding her way back to Jamie. The main issue I had here was the strange way the scenes were arranged. In the "behind the scenes" section of the episode they talk about how they had filmed the scenes in order but ended up rearranging them in editing, and honestly that doesn't surprise me to hear. We see Claire attending the Perpetual Adoration and talking to the priest, before we hear Graham explain what it means to him. I'm not sure why they did this - not only is it unnecessarily complicated from a narrative standpoint, but the scene with the priest is stronger, with the overt message of people never being lost if they are not forgotten. It should have come later anyway.

Also, while I liked the flashbacks, or at least parts of them, I was annoyed at how much focus they pulled from the story proper. Sure, it's fun to see Joe Abernathy again, etc. But the scene with Joe and Kezzie having surgery, Claire and Marsali discovering the penicillin... those are moments I wanted to linger on much more, and it's a bummer they were so brief.

I'll talk in a minute about Jamie's plot thread, which I thought was quite strong, but I did feel like the opening part, where Fergus and Jamie walk in and Knox is there, was kind of odd. Last week there was such a sense of the militia as this unit of people, and this week they were all but absent, with Jamie and Knox getting all the screen time. I could have used a bit more of a sense of the group of men, their dynamics, how they're feeling after everything that went down in Brownsville.

I try so hard to care about Roger and Brianna. Sometimes I manage it, but their fight about Bonnet was really just - disheartening to watch. It's not even that I don't care at all, it's more just that it's dour and unpleasant and it sucks. Roger being upset with Brianna for telling her rapist that her baby is his... like, who am I meant to feel sympathy for in this scene? Because I certainly don't feel it for Roger. Then there's Roger saying that because Bonnet's not dead, they'll need to go through the stones right away, and Brianna gets this conflicted look on her face, like she's still not sure that's what she wants. I'm already exhausted with this dynamic, and I didn't think I would be. I think part of the problem is that I know from the books that they don't leave yet. Who knows, maybe they change things wildly from book canon, but I kind of doubt it.

Pros:

So, while I had my problems with the flashbacks, ultimately I enjoyed seeing Claire in this twentieth century setting, and her voice-over worked really, really well here. Outlander's use of voice-over has been inconsistent, but it's best employed when it's being used to convey a theme or philosophy instead of simply narrating events. Here, we have Claire ruminating on the nature of time, and how that relates to God. It's an excellent theme. We see how in the sterile, "safe" environment of the 1960's, a patient dies senselessly because of an undetected allergy. Meanwhile in the past, Claire is playing God by creating penicillin far before its time, and she uses it to perform successful surgery. Her foreknowledge and skill can and will create a ripple effect, and it's definitely one of the core themes I love to see Outlander explore.

Plus, the actor playing Graham Menzies was genuinely charming, and it was nice to see Claire have a chance to grieve Jamie in a more conventional sense. It's heartbreaking to think about how her original grief for Jamie was subsumed as she tried to be a wife to Frank and a mother to Bree. But decades later, with Frank dead and Brianna grown, she can start to process some of her feelings. She also ends up on the path that leads her back to him, so it all ends up for the best. Also, they brought in the romance novel thing! That's one of my favorite details from the book. Fun to see Joe again!

While Roger and Brianna's scenes left me feeling a little cold, I don't fundamentally dislike these characters. Roger shines brightest when he's focusing on his fish-out-of-water status. He's self-conscious about failing Jamie as a captain, and I really feel for him there. Also, I liked Roger and Claire's scene. They have a more natural chemistry as scene partners than he has with Brianna, and I think that's because Caitriona Balfe is a stronger actress. He compares his situation with Jemmy's unclear paternity, to Claire's decision to hide the truth of Brianna's parentage from her, and I thought that was really interesting, and made for a much better exploration of the situation than we got between Brianna and Roger.

Once again we're seeing how Murtagh continuing to exist in this timeline is changing things for Jamie. I really do go back and forth on whether I like his continued presence, but this week it really worked. Jamie's loyalty, and his decision about when to create a clear line in the sand, is one of the driving forces of this whole story-line. And having Murtagh there, having him be the specific source of Knox's search, adds a personal stake here that I think was definitely missing from the book. I like how in the book, Jamie is basically just trying to play the middle and wait for the right moment to declare himself a rebel, to ensure that he and his family end up on the winning side. It's interesting to watch him navigate that aspect of it. But here, his principles are more directly tangled up in things. His loyalty to Murtagh obviously outweighs his coerced loyalty to the crown!

I also like how Knox seems to really admire Jamie and feel a real sense of kinship with him. Jamie is more reserved, saying what he thinks Knox wants to hear, but I also think Jamie is somewhat genuinely moved by Knox's admiration for him. It was obviously pretty brutal watching Jamie kill him, especially after Knox's horrified realization of Jamie's relationship to Murtagh. Knox isn't a character I necessarily sympathize with, but it was hard not to wince when I saw his life come to end. For Jamie's sake, if nothing else.

So, with evidence of Jamie's true allegiance burned, and Knox dead, Jamie returns to the Ridge with a new friend for Claire - a tiny fuzzy kitten named Adso! This is a different way for the cat to make his entrance than what happens in the books, but hey. I'm still thrilled to see him!

At the end of the day, I'm not sure how to grade this episode. There were things about it I truly enjoyed, but others that frustrated me. We are five episodes in now, and these seasons aren't exactly very long. How am I going to feel about the shape of season five as a whole, when all is said and done? That remains to be seen!

7/10

[hobiwonder]

Teen Idle | (m)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut. PWP

Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie, blowjob, dry humping, exhibitionism, dirty talk, degrading language, mentions of religion in a negative light. Mentions of infidelity. 

Summary:  “Wish I’d been a teen, teen idle Wish I’d been a prom queen, fighting for the title Instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal The wasted years, the wasted youth The pretty lies, the ugly truth And the day has come where I have died Only to find I’ve come alive” - Teen Idle by Marina

OR: You’d been a good girl and for what? Hedonistic adventures of a church girl turned.... well, bad. 

Words: 6k+

A/n: Bad like this absolutely last minute smut lmao eejhbduefhebfuejdn i wrote this in two days and this was NOT on my list of WIPs until like a day ago so I apologise if this isn’t your cup of tea. But tysfm to @yminie for the AMAZING mood board I forever will be amazed by her talents. Not beta read bc it’s my baby’s bday and i dont wanna be sending over work for her to read over!! pls let me know if you enjoyed. I loved writing hoseok ravage me in my mind :’))).

It was hard to understand what exactly was your place in the world. Ever since you’d been a  young girl, growing up in a conservative house with a preacher for a father and a very strict mother to match – you had known nothing but disciple, purity and how to make conscientious choices knowing that god is watching at all times. Even to think of an anomalous thought earned you a solitary confinement in your room with the holy book itself to make your wrongs in to rights. Your parents couldn’t have the preacher’s daughter being just like those insolent teenagers that you went to school with – could they?

The whole of your youth had been spent singing in choirs, volunteering at church on every Sunday and making sure each moment of your life was free from sin and impurity. You never wanted to be like the drugged, easy harlots that went to your impure school. You were better than that. You were better than them. That’s what you’d been told your whole life. To be better than everyone else in the eyes. It did not matter to you that you didn’t have a social circle surrounding you like the rest of your peers that you witnessed on a daily basis – making out freely and shamelessly on the hood of their cars after school or even before school.

“You’re better than these heathens, y/n. Remember that. The lord will reward you for your resistance.” These words have been spoken to you so many times you’d lost count. Your father was a strict man and every punishment, every lesson came down to this; being better than those ‘heathens.’ It wasn’t to say that you regretted servicing the church as a teenager, spending your nights sorting out bulletins instead of crashing college parties like the girls in your class giggled about in the hallways. Charitable work was regarding high in the eyes of the lord. And this life was temporary. You had the whole of heaven to look towards after passing from this world and the hedonistic people that inhabited it.

You wanted to be nice and virginal because in the eyes of the lord, in the holy book, that was more desirable than being an easy slut. Society still valued the innocence, perceived dependency, and sexual inexperience of a female virgin, while shunning women when they “corrupt” themselves by giving themselves away and you’d been a fool when you’d given it all away to one man that you’d thought was the one for you. But what did you get in return? A cheating bastard who’d been sleeping with his secretary – quarter his age.

“Y-Y/n!” your whole body had been on auto pilot and your feet had taken you straight towards your car while Sehun had ran after you – shirt unbuttoned and haphazardly tucked in to his slacks after the scandalous scene you had walked in to at his office.

“Y/n, wait! I can explain!” you’d been told all your life that rage was a sin too. Never to let the anger consume your brain enough to make it cloudy with bad decisions and yet, you hadn’t cared then when you’d turned out – heaving with so much anger you weren’t sure if it was possible to explode from just one emotion.

“Explain what?! What is there to explain?” Your tone is louder than the gentle croon it always was, speaking gracefully and politely like good girls from noble, pious families did. It the surprise on Sehun’s face at your outburst is almost as surprising as finding out that your fiancé had been sleeping with another woman for god knew how long!

But that’s right isn’t it? God knew everything and he had known about this too. So why did he think you deserved this? Did you not deserve to be happy? With a fiancé, a good job, a ‘good’ family? Where did you go wrong?

You’d given up your body for this man thinking he’d done the same. He’d given you himself in return and you had felt whole – at least then. So why did you feel so conned now? Why did you feel the regret creep up now at giving up your purity, your virginity to a man you had given everything to and gotten absolutely nothing from?

“I can’t believe you’re talking to me like that.” The look of utter surprise with an undertone of disgust had you wanting to hurl your bag to his face – wiping away the contorted expression as if he’d met the most vile person on earth. He was in in place to be chastising you after being caught fucking his secretary and yet he had the nerve to do it anyway?

“Fuck you, Sehun.” That’s the last thing you’d uttered to his face, surprising even yourself at your boldness before you’d dashed out of the lot to where you sat now. The bar that was closest to your work building while you’d been driving by. Your emotional state was somewhere between a mess because of your time wasted with Sehun and feeling bitter as you questioned your whole life. What did you have to show for all those years spent following the rules, being a good religious girl only to break one of the most scared rules for a man that didn’t give a crap about you?

You felt dirty and disgusting and craved the glory that you felt within you – like you were better than the people surrounded by you – pure and almost godly. It fed the narcissist in you that your parents had made you out to be. Always telling you that you were better than everyone else out there because of who you were and how you lived your life. Sure your co-workers thought you a but stuck up. But of course – they weren’t the ones with a modest job, a fiancé, a perfect home at such a young age. They were just bitter that your life was flawless and you had it all while staying pure and remembering god while the heathens out there could never have both.

At least that’s what you’d thought. How did you even fool yourself in to believing that you could have it both ways? Have pre-marital sex while trying to live a life that ensured you your place in heaven. Why did it all seem like a waste of time? You’d been a fool and lived a lie. Thinking that being a good Christian girl instead of living a life like the typical teenager did would ensure that you avoided heartache such as this. But it happened anyway. So why? Why had you been so good? Why did you waste your youth burning up a bible while your peers were out there making these mistakes already; probably learning how to avoid men exactly like Sehun than being a fool almost nearing 30 and never having had intimate relationships – at least not like the one you had with Sehun. You’d given him your virginity for goodness sake.

“What would you like ma’am?” The bartender looked at you – slightly unsurely as you stared up at his face just as confused, having never been at a bar like this alone. In fact, you could count on one hand the times you had visited a bar and it had been with Sehun to attend work functions that you both usually left early to pray together before you went to bed at 10pm promptly. God, you were a fucking disaster. And maybe this was a mid-life crisis because even you weren’t sure you’d make it to 60 years old let alone live a normal life in to your elderly years.

“She’ll have a vodka tonic.” The deep, sultry voice was unmistakably of someone you had known very well at work. Well, known was a bit of an over statement.

The bartender nodded, getting to mixing your drink straight away while all the golden skinned, glowing sharp features and a lithe body and a perfect coy smile that was Hoseok, took a seat beside you on the bar stool. His hair was parted and the tie he’d been sporting at work today was loosened around his neck but the blazer still stayed. He looked like a sin you wanted to commit and you couldn’t believe that your mind was so loose tonight that it had even allowed you to think lustful thoughts rather than filtering them out of your system like you’d trained it to.

“Mr. J-Jung.”

“We’re not at the office anymore Y/n. Please call me Hoseok.” He smiled at you so brightly that if you weren’t so at war with yourself internally; you may have even returned it. Usually you avoided much contact with the opposite sex as you already had a fiancé and looking at strange men was not looked upon favourably in the eyes of god. Especially men that induced such lustful thoughts in your mind… But did that even matter anymore? Why had you done all of that when it in the end you’d been fucked over by life anyway? Were you just another pathetic woman; like the ones you despised and told yourself that you were nothing like them?

“Never thought I’d see you at a bar, let alone, by yourself. What’s happening? Lover boy skip a date to go to church?” He chuckles at his own joke and you can’t bring yourself to fight with him. Because at the moment you were questioning every aspect of your life, every opportunity missed and every mistake not made.

Fuck Sehun. Fuck him. Fuck religion. Fuck the people who fooled you in to thinking that you were special. Because if you were then why did this happen? You were no better than any other woman out there even when you kept yourself the cleanest you could. You denied yourself the pleasures that everyone indulged in – thinking and even feeling to some extent like the godly being you were told to strive to be.

“No. He diched me to fuck his secretary at his office.” Your casual response has Hoseok’s eyes going wide, spluttering for a moment before he’s shaking his head as if trying to wrap his head around what you’d told him.

“First of all, never thought I’ll hear you swear,” He shoots you a smirk before a more sombre look takes place on his face, “Damn. Holy shit. I’m sorry to hear that y/n. How could he do that to… toyou.”

Maybe you’d be offended if the context and the circumstances were different. But they weren’t. And it was true. You had thought yourself to be better than everyone else you worked with and thought that you deserved it all. It was your reward for following the rules that god made man to follow. But of course, where did that get you? A lost virginity that made you feel like a whore with even actually being one, not knowing what was true and what wasn’t and the regret. The fucking regret that in your late 20s you had wasted your youth and never gained the ability to deal with a heartbreak such as this. Suddenly, you craved it all. You wanted to go back in time, fuck every guy on the basketball team, fall in love with all of them just for them to break your heart the next week. Drink yourself to oblivion to numb the pain of said heart break or eat your feelings. Do everything that would prepare you for today so could handle these feelings like an actual strong woman and not one whose confidence lay solely on god. Who waved around a false sense of superiority because she didn’t drink? Didn’t smoke? Had only slept with the man she was going to marry?

You’d wasted all those years like a fucking fool. And of course, Hoseok, who teased you the most about being the way you were – stuck up – to witness your downfall.

“Well, he did.” You’re nonchalantly taking a sip of a drink you’ve never had before but thankfully you’re not spitting it back out like a rookie as the alcohol burns its way down your throat and settles in your system. Already making your body temperature rise and you weren’t even through with all of the glass.

“What a shitbag.” Normally you would reprimand anyone who sore in front of you but today; you just shrugged. Still deep in thought, letting the regret take you over as you downed another glass, the pleasant haze of feeling tipsy tearing down your walls of defence and your inhibitions.

“Well, as much as I dislike you for being a killjoy at work and having your nose in the air every time someone even walks by you; I apologise on the behalf of male species. Never thought any bad would be happening to you.” He’s snorting to himself as he drinks his own glass of whiskey, gesturing the bartender to fill your glasses once more. And while he does; you look at him. Reallylook at him. You no longer want to deny that Jung Hoseok was a devastatingly charming man. He was a favourite around the office and you’d never seen him without some sort of smile on his handsome, sharp face. When you’d first started work at his department; he’d tried to flirt with you on day one but you’d quickly shut him down, holding on to your cross necklace as you told him you didn’t court men that easily. But as you watched his easy stance, the way his thighs spread out naturally to accommodate him and the dishevelled look of his hair from running his hands through it; you wanted him.

You wanted him to make you forget. You wanted to live out each and every fantasy you had and make up for the lost years you spent holed up as a teenager. And who best to do it with the most handsome and effervescent man you knew? Sure, you’d only given him dirty looks each time you caught him in the break room making out with a different co-worker every other week. But you were a hypocrite. Because in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be one of those girls. You wanted him to fuck you on every surface of every building. You wanted to be an actual whore than pretend like you were treated any better than one. Discarded to the side so easily by Sehun.

“You okay, y/n?” He’s looking at you now and you know that he’s caught the spark in your eyes, no doubt being able to tell that you weren’t the y/n he worked with on the daily basis. You realise; that version of you had died the moment you’d caught Sehun in the act. This was the new you and she wanted to make up for lost time and suddenly, you felt jittery and moist between your legs as you glanced at Hoseok’s fingers circling the mouth of the glass.

“I will be. If you can help me.” Your voice is soft but determined as you stare him square in the eyes. Sometime during the night, he’d somehow moved closer to you, face now inches away from yours as his own shamelessly took in your pencil skirt and your collared blouse. To proper and put together for his liking. And now, to your own as well.

“You really mean that?” His voice is deliciously husky and it sends a chill down your spine but you nod your answer anyway. Not breaking eye contact with his glossy ones.

“I need you to say it sweetheart.” And you will. Because tonight you wanted nothing more than to feel the feelings you had avoided your whole life – thinking that somehow you’ll remain a better person than everyone you knew.

“W-Will you… will you fuck me Hoseok? Show me what good girls can’t have? Make me regret ever not wanting to let you have me on that day?” Even to your ears, your voice sounds foreign. Never being so openly blunt and shameless. But you knew that Hoseok doesn’t care because he’s cursing under his breath, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he rakes his gaze over your body once more. Then, he’s pushing back his glass while he holds on to your wrist – dragging you out of the bar with him.

“W-Where are we going?”

“To fuck.” Your face is going red and the blood in your veins is bubbling from excitement. You were being careless and reckless and yet; you’d never felt so alive before. This really was your new life. And you could do everything you hadn’t in your past one. Hoseok has your hand firmly in his own as he’s pushing you in to a darkened alley next to the bar. The night air is slightly cool and people are still walking by once in a while to access the bar. In an instance, you’re pushed up against the brick wall, the rough edges digging in to your back harshly as Hoseok blankets your body with his own, towering over you. You’re breathing hard and watching his each move while he only places both of his arms on either sides f your head.

“Do you really want this y/n? Because this is your last chance before I have you the way I’ve always wanted.” And somehow, your breathing is getting faster as you stare at him expectantly.

“I am. U-Use me Hoseok. It’s what I want.” I want to feel like a dollar whore. I want your cum dripping out of me. I want to have your cock in my mouth until the day I die.

It was as if your previous self had been so deprived to the point that the new life you suddenly have made you a nymphomaniac as the default setting. Wanting nothing more than to do anything and everything to fill that deep ache you felt inside your soul and now your pussy. Hell, your previous self wouldn’t have even said any of these words even in your thoughts.

And Hoseok needs no more reassurance as he’s pushing up your skirt in a haste – in a public place, mind you, where anyone could walk by and see two figures huddled up against the wall – and then pulling down your modest white cotton panties that were now soaked.

“Fuck, you’re this wet already? I always knew you were so prim and proper to hide the inner slut in you. Weren’t you baby?” And all you do is nod slowly, watching him hitch up your legs as he settles them on his waist to steady you. All the while his eyes grow increasingly frantic, watching you tremble beneath him. In a way – he was also getting to taste the unforbidden fruit and you were more than willing now. Ready to rid yourself of your virtue that you’d held on to so tightly – at least in spirit.

“Answer me, y/n. Did you always want me? Hm? You always wanted my cock?” His voice is gravely and it sends shivers down your spine that’s perched up against the brick wall.

Something about letting a practical stranger like Jung Hoseok take you in such a public setting was so sensual and erotic to you that you were a mess between your legs, sticky arousal smearing the insides of your thighs as Hoseok looked down between you both. But to your surprise – he doesn’t open his belt buckle as you’d assumed he would. Instead – he’s pushing his hips in to yours, mashing his hardened length against your naked pussy and the breath is taken straight out of your lungs.

“H-Hoseok.”

“Yeah baby?” His hips have started to roll a steady rhythm against your soaked core and you know that he’s making a mess of his own slacks every single time he’s rubbing his cock against your sticky core. And affectively helping you get ever so close to that peak you’d been familiar with but never quite so intensely. Sure, you’d thought Sehun was good in bed but in comparison to whom? Hoseok wasn’t even inside you and you were a mess already. The pleasure so intense and concentrated that the noises that were leaving your lips were almost uncontrollable. As if no matter how much you’ll try; they’ll escape you anyway, painting the dim lilted walls of the alley with your breathy sighs and cries of Hoseok’s name.

A man who you were not courting nor were you even remotely romantically involved with. And saying his name over and over again only made you wetter knowing that fact. It was an act of defiance against your own beliefs and you were going to yell his name in ecstasy any chance you got.

“I need you,” your moan that comes out more as a whine only makes him smirk and push his hips harder in to you, pushing your back farther up against the rough brick wall as it grazes your back almost painfully. And you love every second of it.

“Need me where, y/n?” He’s fastened his pace, resorting to now just a quick grind of his hips in between your legs to deliciously put pressure on you bundle of nerves – almost never detaching from your hips at all.

“Ah! I-In me. Oh god. I-I’m-”

“Already? Such a hungry cock slut.” Hoseok tuts, eyes never leaving your face that’s contorted in a look of almost pain because of being so dangerously close to the edge. Your hands are clawing his back and his face is buried in the crevice of your neck, picking away at the threads that held your sanity close until each string was giving away to the carnal lust that flowed all throughout your body. You weren’t wanting to fight any sensation that you felt. But somehow, your mind still tried to fight off the impending orgasm despite knowing that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted a release. You to let go. But Hoseok isn’t exactly making it easy for you. Because the next thing you know – he’s pushed you down on your knees until you were level with his hips and looked up hazily in to his own hungry eyes.

“You don’t get to cum so easily my dear y/n. Not after all these years I had to put up with your self-righteous attitude only to have your slutty mouth ask for my cock. You need to earn it.” He’s almost spitting out the words while he unbuckles his pants, the sound of his belt buckle opening and the sight of his veiny arms sending another trickle of arousal out of your pussy – panties still around your ankles and skirt still pushed up high.

Slowly, he’s fisting out his throbbing cock that has you gasping when you take in the length and its girth as well. He was bigger and wider than Sehun but a good few centimetres and the thought of his cock stretching you out terrified and excited you all at once. Giving it a few shallow pumps as he smears the pearly white liquid around his length – he eyes you expectantly, gesturing with his chin to come forward.

“Get to work babe. If you want this cock inside you – you better show me how much you want it.” Your eyes most look like a deer caught in the headlights because after a few seconds, Hoseok is cursing under his breath before he’s fisting your hair – only to tilt your face up harshly.

“Open your mouth wide, y/n.” And as if in a trance, you do. With one quick thrust – Hoseok is hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around his slightly salty cock.

“Fuck. Your mouth is a sin in itself babe. And you know I’m the biggest sinner.” He’s spitting out every word between clenched teeth as he thrusts his cock in your mouth again and again. Your jaw already starting to ache as it opened almost painfully wide to accommodate his length while he continued his assault on your mouth.

You’re trying to keep your breathing even and breath through your nose so you don’t faint. The moans that escape you are again – unstoppable. You’d never given Sehun head because he’d deemed it ‘disgusting’ and ungodly behaviour. And yet – you’d found him with his cock buried deep in his assistant’s throat. The act itself with Hoseok’s handsome face peering down at you – lips between his teeth and hands guiding your movements – you can’t remember the last time or anytime in fact, you’d felt this sensual. This erotic and sultry and just plainly like a whore.Giving this beautiful man head in a dark alley with your skirt bunched up to your waist and ass exposed to anyone who could be passing by.

And what do you know – you can hear steps approaching the alley and on instinct, you try to pull away. But it’s hard when Hoseok’s nimble fingers are gripping your hair so tightly to the point where it stings. And with every passing second, you can hear the steps getting closer.

Your voices of protest are muffled while Hoseok only chuckles above you. “You think I care if someone sees you with my cock down your throat? You need to know,” He’s moaning out before he continues, “that your place is on your knees – before me. Like the cock slut you always have been hiding under your granny panties and high collared shirts.”

You can only muffle out a moan around his assaulting member as he continues to fuck your mouth  while lewd, sloppy sounds fill the alley.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to c-cum babe.” His pace has increased and he’s frantically pushing his length deeper and deeper in your mouth while you try to suck on the tip of his engorged head as much as you can. And just when he’s about to cum – a voice all too familiar interrupts you both.

“Y/N? Is… Is that you?” You can hear Sehun approach the two figures he can probably only see vaguely. Your eyes shoot towards his direction and you know exactly the moment he’d recognized your voice and your form that’s sitting on the alley floor.

“Y/N!” Sehun has rushed forwards, grabbing your shoulders in a haste as he pushes Hoseok off of you. You’re sitting there with saliva dripping from your swollen mouth, eyes glazed over while Hoseok is only chuckling as he slips his hardened length back in his pants.

“How dare you do that to her?!” He’s roaring at Hoseok who looks like he doesn’t give two fucks about Sehun catching you with your mouth around his cock. He clearly had the wrong idea. Thinking you’d been forced. Just when you’d collected enough breath and reason in your mind – you push Sehun away forcefully while you walked towards Hoseok who was leaning against the opposite wall.

“Y/N…”

“What Sehun? What do you want?” You’re looking behind you as you walk towards Hoseok – completely throttled and thrashed with your skirt up to your waist – panties around your thighs.

“What in the god’s name are you doing?!” And you can only giggle as you start fishing Hoseok’s cock out of his trousers again – right in front of Sehun.

“Letting this man fuck my brains out.” You don’t need to look behind you to know that Sehun is probably looking at you shell-shocked. Never being able to imagine you this uninhibited and callous with your words. But you get a sneak at his face anyway when Hoseok is flipping you over so that your back rested against the brick wall again whilst he hitched up your legs to his waist again. And the thought that he didn’t care that Sehun was watching before rubbing the fattened head of his cock against your pussy all the while Sehun watched – only made your pussy gush.

You don’t remember the last time you felt this excited, this sexy when you’d been with a man. Not even Sehun who you’d considered to be the love of your life. But now you were finding out that you didn’t know any better and had no other man to compare him to. Of course you thought he was the one because your father approved of him.

“You’re going to go to hell for this y/n. For acting like a disgusting-”

“Slut? I know. I don’t give a shit Sehun. Now go away so I can get fucked in peace. Or don’t, I don’t care-ah!” Just then, Hoseok has pushed his girthy, painfully hard length inside you and Sehun is seething; disappearing from the dark alley just as you’re putting  a hand to your mouth to quieten your cries as Hoseok’s length stretches out your pussy. And he’s looking straight down between you two, watching the way the labia of your pussy stretches around his length.

“Fuck, your cunt is hotter than the 7thcircle of hell my dear y/n.” He’s cursing under his breath, taking in a deep one just as he’s sheathed completely inside you, letting you take a breath as you try to get used to the largest intrusion you’d felt inside you.

“M-Move Hoseok.” You wanted him to wreck you. You wanted him to take his pleasure from you and use you so much so it made up for all the years of being a fool made you miss out on sleeping with every and any guy you wanted to.

“Can’t believe you preached to us all at every general meeting when your cunt is hotter than hell. You’ve always been the hidden devil among us all haven’t you? Hm?”

He’s throwing your hand away from your mouth when you just muffle out your answer behind them with each thrust of his cock inside your channel. You’re so wet that a squelching sound accompanies every thrust inside and it’s making you pink all over.

“Answer me y/n. You’re a cock whore who’s always been hungry for it haven’t you? Yeah?” With each word, his pace had increased the sounds of skin slapping against skin were so loud that they even brought you back down to earth and feel a hint of shame. But the pleasure coursing through you was enough for you to cry Hoseok’s name over and over like a prayer you wanted to have desperately answered.

“Y-Yes. I love c-cock. I want your cock to t-tear me up. U-Use me Hoseok-” you hiccup as tears well up in your eyes, feeling the bulbous head of his hard member nudge your cervix again and again. The natural curve of his dick hitting each nerve ending inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Oh baby.” He’s clenching out between his teeth, “I,” A deep thrust, “will.” Another one that has you almost howling every single time he bottoms out.

You don’t know how he’s holding back after being on edge for so long but you can feel him get even more impossibly harder. Almost as hard as stone inside your velvety walls.  

“Fuck you’re so wet Y/N. Did Sehun ever make you this wet? Hm?” You’re pushed up against the wall with each punishing thrust that has a string of continuous moans falling from your lips.

“N-No. You f-fuck me so well h-hoseok.” It’s hard to speak but you love it nonetheless. Saying all the erogenous words out loud only made your pussy gush and clench around him harder.

“You gunna cum baby? You’re gunna cum for me?” You’re vigorously nodding your head while the tears escape past your eyes and on to your already sweaty and teary face while you sniffle away.

“Too fucking bad.” And just like that – he’s pulling out of you and pulling away so abruptly that you fall to the dirty floor in a heap. Pussy leaking with his and your combined fluids while he quickly tucks back his erection that almost look menacing now. You didn’t know why he insisted on torturing you both but you didn’t question it. Loving every second of your hedonistic and spontaneous sexual encounter.

“Come on.” He’s tugging you up on your wobbly feet and dragging you out of the alley. And when you try to pull down your skirt to cover your ass – he swats your hands away.

“No covering up. I want everyone to see what a whore you actually are. You want this to don’t you?” It takes you a few seconds to look at Hoseok’s smirking face and slowly; you nod. Letting him tug you out towards the parking lot – knowing that any passer-by – albeit it being almost 10pm – would be able to see your skirt pushed up with only your panties barely covering your modesty.

And just like that – Hoseok drags you over to his car; a shinny range rover. Pulling open the driver’s seat, he’s sitting inside and pushing back his seat slightly and then within seconds, pulling you on his lap to straddle his spread legs. Both of you are panting and both of you are staring straight at each other; consumed completely by lust as Hoseok gives your wrecked state a once over. He’s reaching out only to rip open the front of your blouse that had been buttoned up high – only to pull down the cups of your bra as your heaving breasts spring free.

“Fuck,” He mutters under his breath, groping the soft flesh between his large vascular hands, “Your tits are amazing. I want to suck on them all day.”

When you moan out in response, he continues, “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I can drop by to your office for a midday snack, huh? Suck these tits till they’re all puffy and swollen.”

“H-Hoseok. Please.” You’re desperate to reach your peak and now are shamelessly grinding against his hips to get some sort of friction. Hoseok’s bent forward with a nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking in the whole of you areola.

“Oh f-fuck. I’ll c-cum like this Hoseok.” And you were going to. You were so, so close you were about to lose your mind. Thankfully, Hoseok is opening his belt and letting you fish out his hard cock again and within seconds – you’ve taken initiative and impaled yourself on his hardened length.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby. Just like that.” His hands have now found purchase on your waist as you start riding him like only your pleasure mattered. With the continuous teasing and the exhibitionist that Hoseok has awoke in you – your pussy was plenty wet and even overly so. Making deliciously dirty squelching sounds every time you slid over his pole again and again. Your rhythm increasing as your high built up again – and quite fast thanks to all the edging for hours.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock y/n. Just like the dirty little cock whore you are. Aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah. L-Love y-your cock.” You’re slurring your words as the car bounces from the sheer force of your pace as you ride Hoseok towards the sun. You could die a happy girl on his cock and when you look at his face that’s watching you like you’re the holiest thing he’d ever seen; you’re crying out your release while he thankfully gets the hint and holds up your hips, thrusting his cock inside you from below to push you over the edge completely.

“Fuck! Hoseok I-I’m-” Your teary face is looking at his own in panic while his hips frenetically push inside your gushing pussy.

“Cum on my cock baby. Let all your cunt juices go. I want to drown in your cum, fuck!” He’s growling and seething out the words as if he’s angry. Livid in fact and it only stretches out your orgasm further – as well as the hand that’s slipped between you both and now strummed your clit to almost a second peak while he chased his own high.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m going to cum in your dirty pussy y/n. Can I? Fuck I’m n-not going to last. Please baby.”

Your teary face is weakly nodding while your head rests against his shoulder, body bouncing with every thrust inside your sopping and oversensitive walls. The hand on your clit that was incessantly rubbing was so close to make you cum again. And when Hoseok starts to slam your hips down on his lap – sticky and wet sounds echoing through the walls of the confined space in his car, flesh sticking to flesh – you cum once more and with a few more deep thrusts of his cock inside you – you can feel the spurts of his own cum flooding inside your walls.

“Fuck, I-I’m leaking out of you babe.” He’s watching between your bodies as the sounds get even sloppier with his cum overflowing from your pussy and back on to his cock – making a creamy mess between you two. And in that moment, you could only rest your head against his shoulder after having cum for the second time. Your body was worn and tired but your mind was buzzing in the aftermath of your rendezvous. Hoseok looked as beautiful as ever with his golden skin shining with perspiration while he caught his breath – caressing your behind almost lovingly. Love.

That’s not what you were after right now. In fact, even just thinking about it made you want to forget about the whole concept of it all. And when Hoseok looked down at you with a raised eyebrow – you just quietly lean back against the steering wheel, letting him have a look between where you two were joined again.

“Can you f-fuck your cum back in to me?” your sultry tone and your incredibly filthy question catches his off guard for sure. But it’s not even a minute later that he’s ordering you again.

“Turn around y/n. Let’s see that ass bounce.”

And of course, your new self in your new life is more than willing to oblige. Today was the day you had thought you’d died – only to find that you’ve come alive.

a/n: yay or nay? let me know!!

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Good Enough For Me

Pairing: Paul McCartney circa 1962 x John Lennon circa 1978 (McLennon)

Rating: Mature, readers 18+

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of porn and sex work

Words in this chapter: 1800+

Author’s Note:

Here it is! Refer to my summary and introduction post if you haven’t done so for more disclaimers, visuals, tag list info, and more.

*Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles. This is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of the story will not be historically accurate and should not be taken extremely seriously.

Chapter 1

Already a month into the semester, Paul found himself struggling to keep up with his studies. He tried his best to focus on typing an essay on the history of guitars that’s due the next day by 10 a.m. but just couldn’t get himself to do it. Not like it was hard or anything; he just hated doing what he’s told, especially if it was something he didn’t care about. He just wanted to do music but having a degree is a necessity now.

He pressed the home button on his cracked phone screen to see that it was already midnight. He was only half way done with the assignment that could’ve taken him only 30 minutes if he wasn’t writing songs in between paragraphs.

It was all too much anyways. American universities have much more homework assignments than back in England. Times like these made him question whether or not going out of the country for school was worth it. There almost seemed like there were more cons than pros in his decision. He lacked resources, he didn’t have any friends or family here except his roommate/best friend George, he was poorer than ever, and must work and attend school part-time. If he stayed in Liverpool and just continued school locally, he probably would’ve earned his degree by now; but now he’s what Americans consider a “super senior” because he’s 21 years old with the amount of classes completed equivalent to a third year student. Despite the struggle, all of it was better than his father dictating his every move. 

He shut his laptop, giving up on the assignment and leaned back into his desk chair, rubbing his tired droopy eyes.

He had two classes and work tomorrow. The thought of them made him roll his eyes. Music history from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., a business class he couldn’t remember the name of from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m., and work right after at a restaurant nearby as a dishwasher, and occasionally performer if the artist they booked cancelled that night.

He yawned as he got up and slide into his bed. Before shutting his eyes, he turned his head and looked directly across the tiny dorm room to his right to see his childhood best friend and roommate, George Harrison sound asleep.

Paul really needs to take a note out of George’s book and sleep earlier. These late nights are just stressing him out more and more.

***

“Paul….. PAUL! Get up!”

Paul jolted up right when a sudden raised voice rang in his ear. His eyes met George’s signature judgemental look. One of his thick brows cocked and his lips curved awkwardly. He was already ready to go to class.

“Ah, what time is it?”

“9:30. I woke you up 30 minutes before hand because I just know you aren’t going to get up to the 9:45 alarm unless you expect to make it to your first class in 15 minutes,” George teased.

George is a pain in the ass and a know-it-all, but Paul loved him dearly. He comes off mean sometimes but Paul knows it’s just because he’s younger and feels the need to prove himself. Paul was used to it after all this time but sometimes, that boy needs to know when his criticisms cross the line. Despite being a dick sometimes, they’re both grateful to be going to the same college together. It was one in a million chances for George to land the same US college as Paul just a year after Paul’s acceptance.

“Okay, whatever. You have a point, I guess.” Paul groaned and rolled out of bed. 

“I know I do, ha. I’ll see you later.” George messed up his friend’s darkhair more than it already was, making Paul swat his hand away.

When George left, Paul finally got ready and headed off to class with his incomplete essay.

Everyone was already seated and the professor was setting up today’s powerpoint lecture when he finally arrived. Paul sat down in the back where he’s been since the beginning of the semester. It hasn’t been a problem until a girl started to sit near him everyday since last week. When group or partnered work was assigned, she would often ask him to join her. She was kind, but Paul knew she liked him. She couldn’t make it less obvious. They would make small talk here and there---just about classes and hobbies. She was also very good at piano just as Paul was, but not too good on guitar though she claims to be.

He felt her looking at him, making him turn his head to find out he was right. She just smiled and waved. Paul nodded and gave her a small smile in return, trying not to show too much emotion, afraid she would like that too much. She already had the wrong idea but he didn’t want to be mean about it. Paul was not interested in the slightest and, he was gay. Found that out in high school and hasn’t been too shy about it since then. 

When class ended, Paul left immediately to his second class to avoid conversation with anyone. This next one was business related which is something he also could care less about. He was a bit behind in this one too, but this time, he truly didn’t understand the material. He definitely needed a tutor soon.

Not much happened other than him writing mini poems all over his in-class assignment. He didn’t even bother erasing any of it before turning it in at the end of class.

Paul sighed as he made himself to his busboy job right off campus. Before stepping inside, he felt his phone vibrate. It was his dad. Ugh, he thought but answered.

“I’m about to go into work, Dad. What is it?”

“Well, hello to you too. I was just wondering how the first month in the states have been. I haven’t heard from you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine? Have you got a chance to tour places? You should send me photos.”

“No and no. I don’t want you to be sending the pictures to your friends as if you helped me get here. I know you do that.”

Paul heard his father sigh.

“Just text me when you get home and tell George I said hi.”

“Okay, bye.” Paul said before hanging up and walking into his shift.

It seemed harsh but his dad was a selfish prick. He loves to be in control of everything. He was the reason Paul came to the states to study. All he wanted was to ride the wave of success his two sons have been achieving.

In all truthfulness, Paul stopped believing his dad’s bullshit after mom died about 6 years ago. His dad seemed to have lost his way but Paul couldn’t be around all the time if he had a dream to follow. It’s been rough without his mom around but Paul had to do what he was right for him, even if that meant getting away from his dad which is something even she would’ve supported.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how irritating school and his dad were during his shift. The rude coworkers and customers didn’t help his case at all. This wasn’t new though. Paul was used to working constantly in some shape or form. The only problem this time is that he needed more money now that he’s completely independent from his father.

“Hey, busboy!” his boss called out to the dishroom from the back office. Paul rolled his eyes and went to see what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“I have to cut your hours in half. Here is your new schedule. You’re off now, so don’t wash another dish.”

“In half?” Paul took the schedule and saw that his income now would not suffice his monthly tuition payments, let alone some money for necessities. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Why?”

“We can’t afford to pay you. I’m sorry, kid.” he said nonchalantly.

“Will I be able to perform sometimes still?”

“Ehh, sure.” he said as he continued his paperwork, not even looking at Paul.

Paul rolled his eyes again. Could his life get any more annoying? He let out a sigh and clocked out. Now what, he thought making his way home.

When he got home George was playing his computer games with his big headphones to fit on his large ears. The younger man didn’t even notice his friend come in until one side of his headphones was pulled and slapped against his head.

“Hey!” George readjusted himself then paused his game to face Paul with his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“My hours got slashed.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, hah.”

George frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you going to find another job?” 

“Well, I’m going to have to because I will not be asking my dad for help.” Paul said as changed into his pajamas and hopped onto his bed.

George sighed. Paul just stared at his friend for a moment, not knowing what to say. This was bad news for both of them. George didn’t have the same financial issues as Paul did. He only had enough for himself. If George could help, he would---and Paul knew he would.

“I’ll think of something, George. Don’t worry.” Paul got under the covers and listened to his friend shut off his computer and lights before hopping into bed as well.

He stared at the ceiling and sighed, then began to think about all the ways he can make money quickly but none of it would be fast enough to pay his next tuition bill. He rubbed his eyes. It was beginning to stress him out the more he thought of it and he just wanted it to all stop for a second.

Ah fuck it, he thought before whipping out his phone and started to scroll through his favorite porn blog on Tumblr. What better way to forget about things than looking at some sexy pictures of guys?

Paul scrolled until he ran into a post that was by a male sex worker selling nude photos and thought hard to himself. It was a young guy about his age selling his photos for $25 a piece and a private snapchat story for $5 per friend request and $15 extra for screenshot privileges.

Paul bit his lip nervously. It’s been a couple years since he did sex work. All he did was some cam work, sold some nude photos, and made customized videos for people on the internet. He remembered enjoying it but there was always the parts he hated that made the job extremely draining like any other job.

He laid there staring at the screen. He must admit, it was tempting to dive in again but he was afraid what George would think.

“George… Maybe I should go back into sex work…” Paul said suddenly.

George didn’t reply. He just snored in in response. That bastard.

Paul sighed and continued to scroll through sex work blogs, inspired by the possibilities until he slowly drifted to sleep.

-

Tag list:

@nowandthenoldfriend

[mariahschoices]

One Night Out

This is a slightly AU TRR fanfic revolving around the night that MC met Liam, Drake, Maxwell, and Tariq. Characters and some dialogue have been borrowed from Pixelberry.

Pairing: MC (Riley Brooks) x Drake

Rating: NC17 / NSFW towards the end

Word count: 6,817

__________________________________________________________

Riley Brooks stared at her own reflection in the grungy, cracked bathroom mirror of the dive bar where she’d found herself working for the last two years. Her eyes were greeted with the image of the dark circles under her blue eyes, a half-hazard mess of brown hair that she’d flopped into a bun on top of her head, and what looked like a sliver of spinach from her salad at lunch that she’d hurriedly consumed between waiting tables. 

She picked the food out of her teeth, splashed her face, and stood up a little straighter. Her shift was almost over, and damn if she couldn’t accomplish something if she set her mind to it. She had a date scheduled with her bed tonight that she didn’t want to delay any further by wallowing around in the bathroom.

Riley reentered the main room, narrowly avoiding a collision with Daniel, her work husband and main confidant, with whom she could always bitch about their boss over double margaritas.

“Shit! Sorry, Riley,” he quickly apologized. “I was actually just looking for you!”

“Looks like you found me! What’s up, Daniel?” Riley asked, intrigued by Daniel’s sudden sense of urgency and nervous mannerisms, watching as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Actually, see, what I wanted was.... I kinda wanted to ask you... but I know you’re tired and you’ve worked a double as it is and....”

“Spit it out, Daniel. I think we know each other well enough at this point to be straight with one another? What’s up?” Riley questioned, becoming slightly more concerned with his erratic behavior.

“Well, a table of three just came in, and I really need to jet. I finally matched with that h-o-t hottie on Grindr, and our date is in -” he paused to study his watch, “ten minutes ago.”

“You mean the guy with abs you could grate cheese on?” Daniel reddened under Riley’s questioning. “Is it really a date if you met on Grindr?” Riley continued, before rolling her eyes and nudging him on the shoulder towards the direction of the staff exit.

“Go, man! Who am I to stop true love?”

Daniel responded with an eye roll of his own before an ear to ear smile overtook his whole face.

“Thank youuuuu! I won’t forget this!”

“Yea, yea. Don’t forget to send me a wedding invite!” Riley chirped, before heading over to attend to her late night guests who would probably, hopefully, be her final table of the evening.

“Hello, gentlemen. I’m Riley, and I’ll be serving you this evening. It looks like Daniel already brought out some waters for you, but what else can I get you all to drink? Or, if you’re ready to order food?” Riley paused, analyzing the motley crew that had assembled in the booth.

The first man on the inside of the far booth was extremely overdressed, in a fancy Italian suit that probably cost more than she’d brought home the past month. He certainly looked out of place, but also comfortable enough around the other two, which ruled out the possibility that he was a kidnap victim being held up in her bar by the others until the extortion money came through.

The second man, on the outside of the same booth, was still certainly overdressed, though he had a few buttons undone for a more a more casual appearance. He looked younger than the other man - maybe a little brother? No, the family resemblance wasn’t there.

Finally, Riley’s eyes rested on the last man, sitting alone on the opposite side of the table. He wore a casual, blue denim button down over a white t-shirt with black jeans. A Canadian tuxedo. Oh, well, everyone does formal wear in their own way, she supposed.

The second man suddenly spoke up, interrupting her inner evaluation of the three men.

“Steaks for the table!” he cheered with a smile. 

“How about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a bearnaise sauce?” the first man added. He spoke with a posh, preppy accent, enunciating each letter of every word as if everything he’d said was of the utmost importance.

“Er, well, filet mignon does sound good! Unfortunately, the closest thing we have to that in our fine establishment would be the deluxe burger. It’s two half pound patties covered with swiss cheese and loaded with tomato, onion, lettuce, and special sauce. And the whole thing is topped off with bacon! Who doesn’t love bacon?!” she spun the house dish with as much pizzazz as possible in an attempt to appease the men. She really hoped Daniel was enjoying his date, because these men were going to be a pain in her -”

“We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey... and four deluxe burgers,” the third man finally chimed in, saving her from any further attempts at having to up-sell the bar’s humble menu options.

“Excellent choice!” Riley chirped, quickly making her way to the kitchen to put in their order and gather their drinks before any complaints could be made.

Riley made her way back to the table with a tray of whiskeys. Alcohol would surely make the burgers go down a little easier for the two men who were clearly more accustomed to eating truffle mushrooms and caviar for dinner. Upon arrival, Riley realized that another diner had joined their party of three.

“Oh! Hello there. Looks like I’ll need to grab another tumbler for you gentlemen. I’m your server, Riley.”

She took a look at the newest addition to the table. He dressed similarly to the two men on the opposite side, yet he had a casual air about him like Mr. Denim Shirt, whom he’d seated himself beside.

“Hello, Riley. I’m Liam. These are my friends, Tariq, Maxwell, and Drake,” he motioned towards each one as he spoke their names in the same order she had scrutinized them in. “Sorry I was late. I hope I didn’t disturb your work flow.”

“Disturb my...?” she stumbled slightly in her response, taken slightly aback by his formal way of speaking. “Oh, no problem at all! The more the merrier! Nice to meet you Liam,” she smiled, “and the rest of you too.”

Ding. “That’ll be your burgers now! Let me just go get those for you.” Riley scurried off quickly towards to kitchen, evading Liam’s bright-eyed, awestruck gaze.

______________________________________________________________________

The rest of the evening went by quickly and relatively uneventfully, with Liam seeming to reign in the rest of the group’s behavior with a princely ease. The bar’s only other customer had been a single man who’d had two double shots, complained about his wife, and then had to bounce after receiving a decibel shattering, eardrum bursting phone call from aforementioned wife.

Riley wiped down the counters and removed her apron, ready to turn off the lights and lock up for the evening when she heard the front door chime, alerting her of a new customer entering the bar.

“I’m sorry, we’re cl-” she turned around, locking eyes once again with Liam.

“Oh, hey! Did you forget something. I was just closing up. I didn’t see a wallet or anything in your booth, but I can double ch -”

“No, no. Nothing like that! Thank you so much for being patient with us tonight. I know we probably overstayed our welcome,” Liam paused, but Riley remained silent, neither confirming nor denying that she’d very much wanted to go home and promptly hibernate for a week straight.

“Anyway, I just wanted to see if - well, I wanted to invite you to go out with us tonight. Maybe to another bar or club? We’re not from around here and you seemed to really mesh well with the other guys, which isn’t always easy to do, and so... I thought maybe we could repay you with a drink or two.”

Riley pondered his offer, wagering the pros and cons in her head. She really wasn’t interested in Liam, as nice as he had been. He just seemed so.... safe. Boring, really. As if reading her thoughts, Liam interrupted.

“Just as friends. No pressure or anything. Just a thank you. And as a way to celebrate the end of your shift?” he smiled friendly.

“Ah, hell. Why not. I’ve been working non-stop lately. It’d probably do me some good to go out in a social setting and see some people other than my coworkers for once,” Riley agreed, returning Liam’s kind smile. “Just let me go to my locker first. I keep a change of clothes here at work just in case. I’ll meet you out front!” 

Riley mulled over her decision as she made her way over to her locker. Why had she told Liam yes? Sure, she had told him it was for socialization purposes, but if she were honest with herself, there was only one thing she wanted to socialize with - her bed. However, Drake was a close second. He had been mostly silent throughout their meal, simply sipping his whisky and digging into his burger with his sleeves pushed up around his elbows. It was what he hadn’t said that intrigued her. Every time she came by and spoke to their table, he had watched her with interest as if he were studying her - like he could read her inner thoughts if he merely looked hard enough. She could tell he was most certainly the strong but silent type. How did he fit into this group of outspoken, fancily dressed men? Who was he to them? She had to find out.

Riley changed into an emerald green dress that smelled slightly of stale french fries, but hey, that’s what she got for storing it in her work locker. In fact, smelling like french fries could be a bonus for some people.

She stepped back to examine herself in the mirror. She still looked banging if she said so herself, the fabric clinging to every curve of her corn-fed figure. It didn’t matter how much running around she did at the bar. Her mother had always told her that she had “baby making hips.” Finally, she slipped out of her work shoes, trading them in for a pair of low, black heels.

Finally, she turned the lights off, locking the door and slamming it shut behind her. She walked around to the front of the building, where a black stretch limousine was parked. Wow, these boys are even more bougee than I thought. She crossed the street quickly, making sure to press down her skirt as a gust of wind hit her out of nowhere, threatening to give the boys a free peep show. The window rolled down slightly, allowing Liam to peek out at her.

“Hey, Riley! Please come in. I hope you don’t mind the limo?” Riley stepped into the limo, trying to refrain the eye roll that was threatening to make itself evident on her face.

“Mind? Oh, no. I don’t mind. I haven’t been in a limo since senior prom, but uh, your average Thursday night seems like a perfect occasion for riding in one.”

“Heh,” Drake chuckled, barely audible from where she was seated. Liam looked up at him with a slightly shocked look, glancing back and forth between the two of them as if they were sharing some inside joke that he couldn’t understand.

“So, waitress, where are we headed?” the young one, Maxwell, piped up.

“It’s Riley, and are you even old enough to drink, Maxwell?”

That remark got the entire group laughing, Max’s face turning redder by the moment.

“I’ll have you know that I’m 23,” he protested, “I just happen to have a baby face.”

Riley chuckled in response, letting Maxwell off the hook from any further ribbing.

“Oh, well that makes two of us! Let’s run down to the corner store for some booze, and I’ll take you guys to my secret spot.”

"Surely you don’t expect me to frequent such an establishment?” Tariq barked, suddenly inserting himself in the conversation.

“Of course she doesn’t, Tariq. She’s much too smart for that,” Drake interjected, suddenly coming to her defense. “I’ll go in with you Riley,” he continued, “if you want, I mean. There’s no need to bring the whole parade into the store.”

“Sure, Drake,” she agreed, surprised that he had offered. The limo rolled to a stop and they hauled their way out and into the shop to get the goods for an evening of adult fun.

____________________________________________

The limo driver pulled up and parked beside of the beach lot. Riley sat up front with the driver to give directions of course, making herself useful. After all, she would be more help up there than in the back, with Liam making goo-goo eyes all over her.

Meanwhile Drake put bags of ice in the cooler, filling it with their drinks so they would keep cool for the duration of their evening at the beach.

Drake didn’t know how the others would be manage that evening, but he loved the beach. He loved the woods. He loved the mountains. He loved being outdoors in general and being one with nature in any capacity. Drake didn’t have to pretend to be somebody else when it was just him and nature.

Drake dragged the cooler out onto the sand, leaving it behind to start gathering sticks for a fire. A small fire pit was already set up from previous party-goers - he just needed to gather some kindling. He figured it would also give Liam a chance to chat up Riley.

Drake saw how Liam had looked at her. As royalty, Liam had always gotten exactly what he wanted and more. Everything had always been given to him before he even had the chance ask for it. Personally, Drake could tell that Riley was too humble for a guy like Liam. She would never be wowed by the limo, or any of his other symbols of lavish overindulgence. But, Drake could also tell that Liam wanted her, so he left it alone.

The boys threw back drink after drink, continuing the party that they’d started at the bar. By the time Drake came back and got the fire going strong, Liam and the others were talking out of their ass with Riley. She seemed to take it all in stride, laughing and taking slow sips of her beer, making eye contact with Drake above the roaring flames of the fire.

The fire seemed to dance in her eyes, warming Drake from the inside out way more than the flames did themselves. He shook his head, knocking those thoughts loose from his mind. The group would be leaving soon to go back to Cordonia, and he would never see her again. There was no sense in entertaining the desire that was bubbling under the surface for this beautiful, young waitress who had no idea who they any of them were.

Liam continued telling stories, more-so to hear himself speak than for any other reason. Maxwell and Tariq had already broken off into their own conversation, and Riley had tuned Liam out ages ago, merely offering the occasional, “mmmhmm,” or, “oh, really?” to keep the charade that she was listening going along. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of Drake all night, since they’d arrived at the beach. She knew he felt it too. When they’d locked eyes before, she swore she saw a blush reach his cheeks, right before he quickly looked away and brushed his jeans off, pretending that a grain of sand needed addressing right away, requiring his full attention for the task.

It took a few more “mmhmms” from Riley without a response from Liam before she realized that he had exhausted himself. He laid back on a piece of driftwood, his mouth slightly agape as he snored lightly. Riley chucked, looking around to see how the rest of the group was getting along. Maxwell and Tariq were over 100 yards away, entertaining themselves on the pier with a game of ad-libs. Well, Maxwell was ad-libbling. Tariq seemed like he was just confused, and more than ready to return to whatever ritzy hotel they were staying at to enjoy the mint on his pillow that awaited him.

Looking out across the fire, Riley admired Drake’s rugged handsomeness. His shaggy, wavy brown hair. His dark brown eyes with a story to tell behind them. His slightly crooked nose. The smattering of two-day-old stubble along his jaw. He looked up with a smile, as if he knew that Riley had been studying him. She blushed, quickly rising from her seat as he did the same. She walked a few paces over to where he sat.

“I want to dip my toes in the water. Will you join me?” she requested.

“Are you nuts? That water is going to be freezing, Brooks.”

“Brooks? How did you-”

“Your name tag at the bar. First and last name. Kind of encourages people to stalk you, ya know. You should rethink the idea,” he jested, given Riley a lopsided grin to distract her from any potential thoughts of stalkers.

“How very observant of you, Drake. I think this is the most you’ve said to me all night.”

“Must be the whiskey,” he responded. He’d only had one shot at the bar, and two beers at the beach, but Riley didn’t need to know that he just wanted to talk to her. Liam passing out had been the perfect “in” for him.

Riley gave him a knowing look, but she didn’t push the issue. She kicked off her shoes and headed towards the water, glancing over her shoulder at Drake. “Are you coming?”

Her question floated towards him like a whisper in the ocean breeze, and he felt himself being pulled towards her as if he were powerless to deny her request.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, kicking off his own shoes and socks, feeling the sand between his toes. The sand was warm, and he loved being barefoot as much as possible, so he figured this plan wasn’t so bad. He joined Riley a few feet from the tide, where the sand was starting to get wetter, but not quite stepping into the water just yet.

Riley reached out to grab his hand, shocking him and distracting his inner battle with himself about how cold the water was about to be.

“Let’s do it together. I’ll count down from three, and we’ll step into the water at the same time, okay?” Riley announced, and Drake nodded absentmindedly.

“3, 2, 1....” Riley stepped forward, pulling Drake into the water along with her, causing the bottom of his pants to get wet.

“Shit!” Riley yelled, high stepping back out of the water with Drake before releasing his hand. “You were right, that was cold as hell!”

“Heh, actually I think hell is supposed to be hot?” he smirked at her, lifting an arm to run his hand through his hair - a nervous habit. The truth was, he hadn’t felt the chill of the water. All he could feel was her hand in his.

They stood together, collecting themselves silently. Riley watched him with renewed interest, his profile lit up by the light of the moon. She reached out without thinking, lightly pressing the side of his nose and drawing a short line. 

“Your nose is crooked,” she noted. “What happened?”

“Ah, it was a long time ago. You don’t want to hear about that,” he waved his hand, trying to dismiss her line of questioning. He didn’t like to talk about himself, and the last thing he wanted was for Riley to pity him.

“Please tell me,” she continued. He looked at her, unable to deny the request in her pleading eyes. She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. Genuinely interested in him. It had been a long time since someone had shown him such interest.

“I -” he hesitated, looking out over his shoulder to Liam, who was still dozing out of earshot. “Liam. He punched me and broke my nose when we were teenagers.”

“What?!” she squeaked, shocked by his admission. “What a dick. What happened? Why are you still friends with him? What the fuck?!” an onslaught of questions barreled out of her, causing him to chuckle, regardless of the topic at hand. He touched her arm, quieting her.

“It was a long time ago. I’m over it now.”

She quieted, urging him to continue elaborating.

“A girl he liked.... liked me instead. Liam is used to getting what he wants and he didn’t take “us” very well. So he punched me.”

Riley’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “So what if he didn’t like it. I don’t like onions, but I’m not going to punch you in the nose if you eat them around me.”

Drake gave Riley a soft smile in return that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I don’t think those are the same thing, but I appreciate it. Like I said, I’m over it now.”

“I just don’t get it,” Riley continued, “Liam seems like such a nice guy. A little into himself, but fine enough. Why did he think that the girl he liked not liking him back warranted a punch in the nose?”

Deciding that it was time to tell Riley the full truth, Drake sighed before admitting, “Well, because Liam is a royal. He’s the prince of a small country in Europe called Cordonia. He’s used to getting everything he wants, even if he doesn’t necessarily deserve it or need it.”

“Yea, you’re funny, and I’m the Queen of England,” Riley rolled off sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she paced along the beach with Drake. When his expression didn’t change, she stopped. “Wait - you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. The only reason I’m still part of his inner circle is because Liam and I have been friends since we were kids. My father served his father, and he died in the line of duty. Liam’s family took in me and my sister when my mother abandoned us and we had nowhere else to go,” Drake hesitated, realizing that he might be oversharing a bit too much with this woman who he barely knew anything about. He rarely met someone who didn’t know who he was, and he rarely talked about his feelings with the people who did know him, so it all just kind of came out with Riley.

“Sorry, to lay all that on you. But yea, that’s why he is the way he is, and that’s why my nose is crooked,” he finished, walking back to douse the remaining embers of the fire before Riley could stop him. This hiss of the dying flame was enough to jolt Liam out of his slumber.

Maxwell and Tariq rejoined the group, each holding onto one of Liam’s arms as he struggled to stay upright.

“Poor Liam doesn’t get out of the palace much to let loose. He can’t really handle his liquor very well,” Maxwell joked, smiling at Riley.

“Maxwell! Liam wanted us to remain undercover, remember. Now Riley knows he’s a royal!” Tariq scolded.

“Don’t worry about it, Max,” he interrupted Maxwell’s quickly escalating panic, letting him off the hook. “I already told her.”

“I don’t know why he keeps you around. The whole lot of you. You can’t do the one thing he asked,” Tariq sneered as he stomped off with Liam in tow, depositing him into the back of the limo with Maxwell.

“Ignore him,” Drake said to Riley. “Can we give you a ride home?”

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I just live a few blocks from here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s late. I’ll walk you. I can take a cab back to the hotel from there or something.”

Riley started to protest, but he was already ducking his head down into the limo to tell the guys to go on without him, and that he would get his own ride back.

The limo drove off and Drake started to make his way down the sidewalk. Riley scurried in her heels to keep pace, admonishing him once she arrived beside him.

“I didn’t even tell you which way it was!”

Drake gave her a sideways smirk and asked, “Well, which way is your place?”

Begrudgingly, she admitted that they were headed in the right direction. “It just so happens that it’s this way. You got lucky.”

Drake chuckled in response, but he didn’t push her any further.

A few more steps into their walk, he realized that their time together was quickly coming to an end. He had to get her talking. To get the most out of their time together.

“So, tell me about you. What’s your story? Did you always want to work at a bar?” he seriously doubted it, but he wanted to find out more about her.

She laughed sadly, shaking her head no. “Is that anyone’s dream job?” she glanced his way before continuing. “No, I was in college for political science. My parents didn’t have a lot of money, but they supported me financially through school. They both worked two jobs to makes ends meet,” Riley paused, growing a little quieter. “The summer after my third year, they were in a train accident. The train derailed and they,” she sniffled, a tear streaming down her cheek, “they died.”

“I’m so sorry, Riley. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business,” Drake apologized, feeling like an asshole for ruining their fun night by bringing up sad topics.

“No,” she wiped her cheek, gathering herself. “It’s okay, Drake,” she smiled softly at him. “I know that you know how it feels to lose a parent.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, not letting go.

“So, no, to answer your question, I did not want to be a waitress or a bartender for the rest of my life, but I had to quit uni to support myself after they passed. I haven’t found my way back yet,” she finished, stopping in front of a brown brick building. “Well, this is my building,” she pulled Drake into her arms, breathing in the scent of him, a mix of crisp pine and campfire smoke.

He stalled, taken slightly aback at first, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a the safe cocoon of his arms. He burrowed his nose in her hair, soaking in as much of the moment as he could before he knew he’d have to leave her. He released her reluctantly, taking a step back. “It was great meeting you, Brooks.”

Riley took the few steps that led up to the door, pausing with her keys in her hand. She couldn’t let him go yet, and before she could stop herself, she looked over her shoulder at him and uttered, “Would you like to come up?”

She wasn’t the type for one night stands. She’d only had two long term boyfriends, and she knew that she’d probably never see him again, but she felt magnetically drawn to this man. Before she could withdrawn her offer, he took a few steps up to meet her, pressed his hand to her lower back, and nodded subtly in agreement.

She gulped, her heart racing as she inserted her key into the door and turned the knob. What the hell was she doing? Riley, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Maybe he just wants to come up for coffee. You’re being an idiot. She glanced up again at him, and he smirked at her. She gulped. This man does not want coffee. He wants...

Before she could overthink the situation any more, they were already in front of her apartment door.

Cognizant of her nervous energy, Drake stalled, turning Riley to look him in the eye.

“We don’t have to do anything, Brooks. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, but I can tell you’re nervous,” he smiled sympathetically. “I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

His gentlemanly admission calmed her nerves, and renewed the fire in her loins. She studied him with renewed vigor. Tall, broad shoulders, muscular, rugged, handsome... and hers for at least the next hour. She unlocked her apartment and moved aside to let him in behind her.

He looked around for moment, taking in their surroundings. Humble, but cozy, Organized, but adorned with sentimental tchotchkes here and there. A small sofa, easily convertible into a full size bed, making the most of the studio space.

Riley wrung her hands, watching him as he took in their surroundings, finally settling on her face. “I like your place. It’s very you.”

“Simple and unassuming?” she quipped.

“Cute,” he responded, leaning in to kiss her softly.

__________________________________

Riley darted off to the kitchen, pouring drinks for the both of them. She was nervous. She wanted Drake, but she’d also never been in a position where the future was so cloudy. She liked to research things, weigh pros and cons, and make well thought out decisions. She wasn’t used to thinking with her vag.

They took their drinks into the living room, which also happened to be her bedroom. Riley turned on the TV, and she settled on watching MasterChef.

“Is this okay?” Riley asked. She hadn’t really asked Drake what he wanted to watch. She had just picked a program that she wanted to catch up on.

“Oh yea, I love cooking,” Drake responded, smiling at Riley in response.

They sat together on the couch, drinking and watching the show in mostly silence. They gradually started to get more comfortable, with Drake sitting up while Riley laid back along the couch with her legs across his lap. Absentmindedly, Drake began to rub slow circles along the inside of her ankle, his hand drifting up her calf throughout the episode. While innocent enough, it was enough to wake up Riley’s senses and distract her entirely from the show.

Two can play at this game. Riley matched the pace of his hand’s ascension. As his hand rose up her leg, she gripped the side of her dress and lifted it, keeping pace with his hand, slowly revealing more and more of her thigh, until the side of her underwear was peaking out.

“Do you see this idiot? Can’t cook to save his fuc -” Drake finally glanced in her direction, noticing the predicament that they were in. “Fuck,” he finished.

Drake reared back, simultaneously losing all interest in the show and repositioning his body to lay over Riley’s, positioning a leg between hers. He kissed her, leaving a soft trail of kisses along her jar and up to her ear.

“That dish looked fucking disgusting, I think I have something better to eat right...” his hand traveled the remaining distance to the apex of her thighs, “here.”

Riley shuddered under his hand, feeling as he grew hard against the exposed skin of her thigh.

“Is this okay?” Drake whispered, moving his arms to either side of her, hovering above her body before continuing his movements.

“Yes,” Riley responded, nodding her head urgently and wrapping her hands around one of Drake’s to relocate it, moving it back to her crotch.

He growled with hunger, leaning over her body to suck the soft flesh of her neck, working across her collarbone as he rubbed her softly through her underwear. He wrapped one arm under her back, pulling her into an upright position. 

She was confused, but only for a moment, quickly coming up to speed as he slipped his hand under her dress, alongside her thigh. She raised her arms, allowing him to pull the dress up her body and over her head.

Riley pushed herself up further, now on her knees. “You’re not nearly naked enough,” she admonished Drake, pushing him down to lay on the couch as she straddled his thighs. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, opening it to reveal the thin white tee beneath. She pulled the shirt out from the waistband of his pants, raising the fabric to reveal his hard abs and a smattering of hair.

Drake wrapped his arms around her, picking her up as he stood from the couch, depositing her safely to the ground to pull out the bed before things progressed any further. Tinkering around until he was finally satisfied with his efforts, he picked her up again and threw her on the newly constructed bed. She laughed momentarily at his caveman antics, but quickly quieted once he took off his button down and pulled his t-shirt over his head, leaving him half naked. No wonder her could throw her around like she was a pillow. This man was solid as a rock. She’d have to ask him later how he stayed so fit.

Drake leaned over her to unhook her bra, pausing to suck each nipple and kiss each breast for a few moments, a sense of urgency taking over as he shifted further down the bed.

He leaned between Riley’s legs, wrapping an arm around each thigh and holding onto her luscious hips. He kissed her through her panties that were thoroughly soaked by this point. Satisfied by how aroused she was, he hooked his teeth onto them and peeled them down her legs, resuming his place between her thighs once it was done.

He licked his way up her slit, causing her to jolt forward into his mouth as her hips lifted off the bed. He gripped her hips tighter and began to lick her. Slow and gentle at first, from bottom to top. He stiffened his tongue and inserted the full length of it into her, siphoning in and out, lapping up all of her juices as her head fell back and she started to moan.

“Drake!” she gasped. Her moans added further fuel to the fire, encouraging him to work twice as hard so that he could hear more of them. He wanted her to unravel under his mouth before he ravaged her body.

He removed his tongue, replacing the empty space with two fingers, leaning down to suck on her bundle of nerves at the same time. He alternated between sucking and licking her clit, curling his fingers as he pumped in and out of her.

With one final, “Drake!” he felt the dam burst within her, and she coated his fingers with her sweet cream. He paused to look at her as he sucked his fingers clean of her.

He stood from the bed, unbuckling his belt and carefully unzipping his pants, sliding them down his legs. His dick was as big and as firm as the rest of his body, and Riley’s mouth instantly started salivating like it was a cold popsicle on a hot summer day. Wordlessly, she leapt off the bed and got down on her knees in front of him.

“Riley, you don’t have to - oh!” she took him in her mouth and quickly got to work, taking him deep into her mouth and throat as far as she could go, her saliva getting it nice and wet for the next stage of the evening. She leaned back until just the head was in her mouth, swirling her tongue around and suctioning the tip and she simultaneously pumped up and down his girth with her hand. She felt a slight twitch before he gently pressed her chest, releasing himself from her mouth and urging her to lay back on the bed.

She leaned back with anticipation as he hovered over her body, his member pressing between her legs, a thigh on either side of him. He leaned down to kiss her, slipping his tongue in her mouth and sucking on her bottom lip gently before asking, “Condom?”

“Oh, uh, yes...” she dug around in her bedside drawer for a moment, retrieving what they needed. She tore open the foil and slid it down the length of him as quickly as she could, unwilling to wait much longer for him to be inside of her.

He leaned over her body, offering one last soft kiss as he positioned himself at her entrance. Swiftly, he slid himself inside her body, causing her to gasp.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pausing as she adjusted to his girth, stilling his movements entirely.

“Yes, yes! More than okay! Move!” she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her further. He needed no more encouragement. He grasped onto the sides of her thighs, positioning her body to meet his every thrust as he pounded into her, causing her to howl in pleasure.

“Oooohhh, Drake. Fuck!” she groaned deliriously, generating a cocky smirk to rest on his face.

“That’s what we’re doing,” he responded sarcastically. Before she was able to return his quip with one of her own, he doubled down and leaned over her body, resting his weight on his forearms for stability. He slid in an out of her body, almost coming out of her entirely before thrusting deep within her, making her feel so empty and then instantly filling the void within her, bringing her to the edge of delirium. She felt so good, he was having trouble containing himself. He tried to think of anything and everything that would keep him from getting off. He wanted this to last as long as possible.

He withdrew, causing her to whimper instantly. “Drake, what -“

“On your knees,” he commanded smoothly, and she followed his instructions right away. He pressed himself against her until she started to squirm, pressing herself back against him until he went inside just a little. He slid his arm underneath her body, angling her sweet ass so he could reach her from the back. He started to rock inside of her as she groaned and wailed with pleasure, rubbing his hand in circles and winding her body tighter than a spring. It didn’t take long before she burst, her muscles spasming down around him as she climaxed.

“Thank god,” he murmured, too quiet for Riley to hear, quickly finding release of his own after taking a few final pumps within her.

He withdrew from her body slowly, discarding the condom in the bin and cleaning himself off. He lay beside her, wrapping his arm around her safely as they both recovered, feeling happier than he had in a very long time.

__________________________

Drake woke up a few hours later in an unfamiliar place, momentarily forgetting what had occurred until her saw Riley laying beside him, hair fanned out across the pillow. He found a blanket on the lounge chair beside of the bed, and he draped it across her body so she wouldn’t get cold.

Hmmm... that’s a nice chair. Maybe we could trying doing it there next time. Next time? What was he thinking. As amazing as Riley was, he didn’t see how they could possibly make a real relationship happen between them. Everybody knows that long distance relationships never work. Drake started to get dressed, fumbling around for his clothes in the dim lighting.

“Drake?” Riley whispered, her voice barely audible with sleep. “Are you leaving?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I was going to wake you before I slipped out. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Our flight home is actually scheduled for tomorrow morning, er, I guess it’s this morning now.”

“Oh,” she stated sadly. “Well, let me give you my number. Maybe we can text or Facetime or something?” she asked hopefully.

“Sure, Brooks. I’d love that.”

He typed her number into his phone and she walked him to the door, the blanket he’d covered her with wrapped around her body. He leaned down to kiss her, sweet and soft, pouring so much emotion into it that you would have thought he was her longtime lover going off to war or something. She shook off the thought. She knew what she had been getting into, after all.

After Drake left, she tried to go back to sleep to no avail. Drake had really lit a fire within her - mind, body, and soul. She truly hoped that he would call.

About 15 minutes after Drake left, Riley thought she heard a knock at the door. Who would be bothering her this early? It wasn’t even light out yet. Surely enough she heard it again, three more raps at the door. Could it be him?

She quickly burritoed herself, covering all of her exciting bits with the blanket around her. She opened the door, expecting to see Drake, but...

Maxwell waited behind the door, perking up with interest as she opened it, trying not to let his eyes wonder once he realized what she was wearing.

“Um, hi, Riley! How would you feel about taking a trip to Cordonia?”

[brawlingdiscontent]

terrible with the brightness of gold, 6/6

(cherik fic, viking au, subtle a/b/o)

(part 1 here, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5)

Thanks so much for your patience, everyone! I’m not dead!! Here’s the last part for this section.

Warning in this part for discussion of child murder, some dub con elements, and threats of self harm.  

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Throughout the rest of dinner, Charles is left alone to process what has just happened and what it means for him. On the edges of his awareness, a rowdy song rings through the hall and inebriated Vikings toast their victory.

It’s clear from Lehnsherr’s announcement that he plans to make England his base and home, even if he intends to continue his conquering outwards. It’s an unprecedented move and Charles can’t begin to account for it; but, regardless of the cause, he must readjust his plans for these new circumstances.

Around him the torches burn low once more, and this time aren’t replaced. The drunken singing and reveling tapers off and the hall slowly begins to empty of its occupants.

“Come.”

Charles looks up to find Lehnsherr’s hand filling his field of vision, once again extended towards him. It seems that most of their interactions thus far have consisted of the other commanding him about.

He ignores the gesture, and stands on his own, figuring his rudeness can this once be excused.

As they leave the hall, Charles following behind Lehnsherr, he doesn’t make eye contact with any of its denizens. He doesn’t want to know what he will find in their gazes.

Fortunately most of the remaining men are too drunk to take notice of them.

To his surprise, rather than heading back to the keep he finds himself being led towards the city gates. Lehnsherr, then, is not setting up in the palace, at least not yet. He wonders if this is a decision moved by habit or a sign of lingering mistrust: the keep, while secure, could well be breached from within the city.

At least he gets his own horse this time.

The moon is bright, and its light is enough to guide their way back to the camp.

They are alone, and for a split second Charles thinks of running. He could turn his horse around, break off in another direction. He’s a good rider, and it would take him only a few minutes to reach the woods: a terrain with which he is familiar and Lehnsherr and his men are not. But it’s just a fleeting thought. What keeps him here is not Viking force, but his loyalty to his people, his sense of duty, and the mission he has yet to accomplish.

He re-adjusts his grip on the reins and moves on.

He pays little attention to his surroundings as he rides. Horses’ eyes are keen and can see well in the dark; he trusts his mount to carry him safely. Instead, Charles considers the fact that he is once again facing marriage to a stranger.

He’s survived it once, and he can do it again. He and his husband of fourteen years had never been particularly fond of each other, but all things considered Sebastian hadn't treated him badly. He was never overly cruel (to Charles, at least). The Black King had recognized in him an asset; a keen mind, an aptitude for statecraft, and had taken care to shape his young spouse accordingly, treating him as well as any useful object.

They had had what might be called a workable relationship--and perhaps in time something like that could be crafted again. But right now, that’s of little importance. Right now all that matters is how this new development can help him to complete his mission: namely that Lehnsherr has inadvertently given Charles a position of strength from which to bargain.

The camp is still bustling but slowing down when they arrive back. Charles dismounts and hands his reigns over to a figure in the waiting party--a boy, perhaps a page of some sort. He looks very young to be a part of a Viking war party, and Charles feels a pang of sympathy.  

As Lehnsherr leads the way back through the camp, they are flanked by several men. Some carry torches, others seem to be reporting back to Lehnsherr, exchanging tidbits of information in low tones. Occasionally he sees them look over to him, a half-step behind, with curious glances.

They weren’t at the banquet, of course. They wouldn’t yet know.

They weave through the tents and presently stop outside what Charles is surprised to recognize as the tent from this morning. It was so plain, unlived-in that he would never have imagined it belonged to Lehnsherr--though maybe if he had he might have seen some of this coming. 

Lehnsherr detaches the heavy train of his cloak, sweeping it off his shoulders and handing it over to an attendant. He’s giving instructions to someone else, but Charles doesn’t really pay attention. He doesn’t speak Danish, anyway.

At last they begin to disperse, exchanging a short phrase that could be ‘good night’. Lehnsherr lifts the tent flap and gestures for Charles to walk in ahead of him. He goes.

After the evening’s events, this at least is not unexpected. There are all sorts of reasons for Lehnsherr to want to bed him: to bind their engagement, to stake his claim in the eyes of his men—plus the fact that Lehnsherr has been fighting without omega company for quite some time. He imagines it’s been many nights since the man had someone to warm his bed. And Norsemen have a more relaxed approach to the vows of marriage, not requiring them in order to sanctify their conduct.

“I’ve no intention of hurting you,” Lehnsherr says shortly and gruffly, perhaps misattributing Charles’ silence to fear. “We Danes respect our spouses.” He's already started stripping off his battle layers. Putting aside the thick, leather gambeson, unlacing his vambraces. Someone has left several candles burning, bathing the tent in a gentle glow.

It is this ridiculous assertion that finally pulls Charles out of his stupor.

“Oh really?” he huffs, “Do you respect them enough to ask their consent to marry them?”

Lehnsherr’s head snaps back towards him—perhaps surprised by this spark of energy after his relative docility since dinner.

He levels Charles with a measured gaze before responding. “There wasn't enough time to consult you, and there seemed little point, knowing you could hardly refuse.” He leaves the final part unsaid; that their last interaction hadn’t left him in the mood to confer. He goes back to tending to his garments, folding them and piling them neatly, and finally, unbuckling his sword and laying it to the side.

“So which am I, then? Your prisoner or your spouse? As I assure you, I won’t be both.”

Lehnsherr huffs a laugh as he turns back to Charles, now wearing just a light tunic. “You’re quick, I’ll give you that.”

And then those hands are on him, grasping Charles and pulling him in closer to capture his mouth in a kiss—

Charles firmly pushes him back. Straight to it, then. “You’ve still not answered my question, Your Grace.”

Rather than reply, Lehnsherr crowds forward once more, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, carrying this interaction with an infuriating air of humour. As though Charles poses no threat. Charles backs away as Lehnsherr advances. His foot seems to catch on the edge of the piled furs that make up the sleeping place, and he stumbles, falling back onto their cushioned surface.

With a hungry look, Lehnsherr prowls over him.

And then he freezes.

“Not a sound to your men,” Charles quietly directs, his boot knife resting lightly across the back of the other man’s neck, his heart beating wildly.

The sharp edge of the blade has fixed them close together, their breath mingling and sharing the same space.

“You would attempt to kill me in a camp surrounded by my own men?” Lehnsherr’s voice is threaded with amusement, but he’s being carefully still, the bite of the knife discouraging him from taking any action.

“Perhaps I would. Perhaps my only goal is your death, consequences be damned.”

“Then I would already be dead and we wouldn't be talking. No.” appraising eyes sweep over his face, intent. “You’re too clever for that.”

Charles pushes down the flush of pleasure at the rarity having his intelligence recognized as vastly inappropriate. Besides, the other didn’t intend it as a compliment, merely an observation—and he is perfectly right. Even if Charles managed to kill Lehnsherr, the guards outside could quickly gut him, and then would feel free to exact a bloody retribution on the city and all of its inhabitants, something that Charles has already shown his unwillingness to risk.  

He craves the clarity of distance.

“Very well, then; how about this? You want me as your consort to legitimize your claim to the throne of England.” He says it as statement but there’s an element of question in it that is resolved when Lehnsherr doesn't blink nor challenge his words. Feeling some satisfaction at his powers of assessment, he continues: “I will play along, provide you with an English heir, even, but first you must give me what I want.”

“And what might that be?” Lehnsherr asks indulgently

“My children. You must promise to spare their lives.” 

He wishes they were further apart for this conversation, not pressed close in a parody of intimacy. Rather than the proximity of their bodies, he focuses on the other’s eyes, trying to discern Lehnsherr’s thoughts from his gaze.

“What makes you think they're in any danger?”

Lehnsherr’s trying to rile him. “They’re the last legitimate heirs to the throne, thus their claims far exceed your own. I understand your situation: in order to stabilize your own position, you’ll seek eliminate any threats, and I’m not naïve enough to assume our union will protect them.”

The other’s face takes on a thoughtful, more serious expression than his earlier amusement.  

“Say that I do have plans to harm your children. What might induce me to spare them? As the greatest threats to my rule, surely it’s in my best interests to remove them.”

Charles senses this is more an intellectual exercise than a direct threat--at least for the moment--but just hearing the words inflames him. The knife digs in just a little more, drawing a hiss from Lehnsherr.

“They’re children. They have no plots or schemes, no interest in ruling anything. I’ve already sent them to Normandy, as no doubt your spies have informed you. They will stay there, you have my word, far from here and no threat to you, as long as you give me yours that you will not send assassins after them.”

“So I let Shaw’s vipers wriggle free? To sting another day.” His face is impassive, but there’s a new intensity underlying Lehnsherr’s words. The difference on the surface is barely perceptible, but Charles senses that he is betraying a depth of feeling long hidden.

“My children are not vipers! I protected them from that. Why would I encourage ambition in them when, so far down the line of succession, it would only get them killed? Sebastian saw little reason to shape them to his will, the spare children of his political second marriage. I remained useful to him, and he left them alone. It was our agreement. Of course he could never have imagined that in just a few months of battle you would slaughter all of their siblings.” Or that Charles would be here, lying in bed with their killer. “Would you have the blood of innocents on your hands? Even if they had inherited the predation of their sire, they care for me deeply. They would never attack here if they thought it might endanger my life. Wasn’t that in your thoughts when you arranged this marriage? Besides, I would hate to think that a warrior of your supposed might is afraid of a couple of children.”

This last dig, a transparent attempt to goad the other man, draws a hint of a smile to his now mollified lips.

“Well, your Highness, even if I were willing to concede to your wishes, tell me, what reason do I have to do so? You have no leverage when my death would bring you nothing.”  He leans back just a bit more as though to emphasize his point, pushing his throat a little further into the blade.

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

Lehnsherr’s eyebrows raise. “Then, please, enlighten me.” His flippancy and distraction creates Charles’ advantage. He puts sudden pressure on Lehnsherr’s throat and rolls them, turning until their positions are reversed, and he straddles Lehnsherr. He lets the other’s faint look of surprise fuel his next words.

“I suppose you imagined that I would quietly acquiesce to your plans, for fear of you, or for the privilege of remaining royal consort---or perhaps because I’m simply too meek and too pliable to do otherwise. But I would do anything for my children. Even die.”

Perfectly calm now, he pulls the knife back from Lehnsherr’s throat and moves it to his own, pressing down against the skin. The other’s eyes widen slightly, revealing, for the first time that evening, a hint of uncertainty.

Lehnsherr tries to sit up, pushing himself up on his hands. Charles holds out his other hand in a stalling gesture and presses the knife further into his own throat. A bead of blood wells up where they meet, the sting of it sharpening his thoughts.

“Stop.”

There’s not force behind the word, and yet Lehnsherr lowers himself back down.

One corner of Charles’ mouth twists up in a grim smile.

“As you've so astutely pointed out, I’m not a fool— and you’ve revealed a vulnerability in your plan. You need me to legitimize your claim on England. But it would be only too easy to turn this knife on myself. And how would that look?—Erik the Conqueror ruthlessly murders the defenceless omega consort of his dead rival—or, better still, his own consort (thank you for that). With the span of your kingdom, you can’t afford the resulting upset; your men can’t be everywhere. Not to mention that my family in Normandy would hear of my death and feel obligated to seek vengeance against the perpetrator.”

Lehnsherr is watching him avidly, now, his eyes bright with something unnamable.

“So the way I see it you have two options: spare the lives of my children and gain a compliant, strategically advantageous spouse; or refuse my bargain and live with the consequences.”

The warlord seems to consider his words.

“Done.”

“Done?” For all that he has been angling for this outcome, it feels unreal to hear it spoken aloud.

“I agree to your terms, Charles of Normandy.”

The wave of emotion that flows through him is strong—but Charles has the presence of mind to stutter-- “Swear it.” -- before he lets it carry him away.

“I swear to you on my sister’s grave that in exchange for your cooperation your children will come to no harm from me--nor anyone in my service.”

Charies’ eyes flicker over his face, searching for signs of veracity, sincerity; and Lehnsherr returns the gaze in an in entirely different mood, expression rapt, a bright, almost eager look in his eyes.

Charles finds no signs of deception and in the resulting wave of relief, relaxes his arm marginally--and Lehnsherr presses this advantage.

He grabs Charles’ wrist, pries knife from his grasp and tosses it to the side. In one fluid motion he flips them back over, pushes Charles back into the furs and leans forward to take his mouth in a kiss.

Lehnsherr kisses him roughly, like a man used to taking what he wants; but there's another layer underneath, a tenderness that undoes him. It sends hot streaks of want slithering up his spine. He grabs at Lehnsherr’s shoulders, shocked, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

For a brief moment, Charles lets himself reciprocate, gives in to his surprising desire. He breaks from his paralysis and returns the kiss, pushing back against Lehnsherr and matching his fervour.

And then, using surprise to his benefit, he pushes up one of his knees and shoves Lehnsherr off of him with all of his strength.

While Lehnsherr is momentarily stunned, collapsed on his side and fallen off the edge of the furs, he snatches up his knife from the ground, grabs a thick blanket from the pile, and removes himself to the farthest corner of the tent.

“We’ll wait until we’re married,” he says. 

The words suggest a firmness that doesn’t quite make it to his voice, as he tries to ignore his racing pulse, hide how he’s affected.

When no response is forthcoming, he looks back over to Lehnsherr and finds him still stunned, looking vaguely winded. And then he can’t help it--a laugh bubbles up out of him, borne of relief and vaguely hysterical. Perhaps his thrusting knee had brushed some sensitive areas.

“Glad we could come to an agreement.”

He half-expects Lehnsherr to come after him, like a brute; but when the other finally moves it is just to blow out the candles, plunging the tent into darkness.

When Charles works up the courage to look back over, he sees that Lehnsherr has turned away to face the tent wall, seemingly committed to sleep.

He can hardly believe it. 

He has done it all, rescued his people, preserved the lives of his children. Everything that haunted his nightmares, that had kept him awake for days on end, has been resolved. 

He breathes out. 

And then, in a tent in the middle of the Viking camp, surrounded by his enemies on all sides, he at last falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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Thanks all for following! This fic started with just two images: Charles waiting on a beach, and threatening Erik with a knife in bed. I was inspired by the story of the 11th century King Cnut and Emma of Normandy.

After the death of her husband King Aethelred, Emma (his second wife) held a besieged London for months alone against the Danes. Less than a year after the city was surrendered to Cnut, they were married. There has been much speculation around the fact that, despite the custom of the time, and Cnut’s swift execution of other potential claimants to the throne, Emma’s two children from her first marriage were not killed but survived in exile.

I think my next step is editing this part bit more until I’m somewhat satisfied and uploading it to ao3, and then I may develop more in this series. I have some ideas of what to cover, for one, this fic didn’t really have time for Erik’s backstory/motivations, but let me know if there’s something that you’d like to see. :)

Thank you all for your amazing support and encouragement!!